Special Investigations Division: Safehold
by Loki's Son
Summary: Doctor Bashir has died in prison and Starfleet suspects Section 31 had something to do with it. The SID is tasked with finding why the doctor was killed or if he even was.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or its related properties. They are owned by CBS/Paramount. I own all original characters and plot points.**

* * *

Andoria's highest security prison was receiving a visitor from the Federation. This was now an unusual occurrence since the Andorian Empire had seceded from the United Federation of Planets that it had helped found. The other unusual happenstance was that Ishara Yar was wearing Starfleet's medical division blue and flashing credentials to get her access to her "patient". Only in this case, the patient was already dead and Yar was only there to confirm Julian Bashir's death and collect his body.

"I'm here to inspect the prisoner's remains," she announced to the warden.

The warden fell into one of two Andorian "male" sexes. She couldn't tell which. There hadn't been any Andorians on Turkana IV.

"It's a shame Bashir died before your ship could reach us," Warden Hash dryly remarked.

"Still, this is a humanitarian mission," Yar replied, "Cooperating will go a long way towards bolstering your people's reputation amongst the Federation's public after you've already joined the Typhon Pact. And many felt Bashir got the raw end of the deal seeing as how he wasn't the actual assassin."

"Dr. Bashir was an accomplice in Emperor Thrak's assassination," Warden Hash said in ominously quiet tones, "He could have given us the actual assassin's name and location at any time. Instead he chose to remain silent. _Both_ of the times he was remanded to our custody."

Yar sighed, "We could argue legalities and semantics all day long. May I see the prisoner now?"

"Of course," Warden Hash tipped his head, "He is in our morgue."

Yar reached Bashir's body and it was already a distinct shade of blue. Warden Hash smiled, "Frankly, I don't think he's ever looked better."

"And your doctors couldn't determine a cause of death?" Yar wondered.

"Such is their report," Warden Hash remarked, "He just seemed to succumb to natural causes despite his seeming good health. Perhaps genetic engineering isn't what it used to be."

"May I take custody of the body then?" Yar asked.

"Certainly," Warden Hash seemed relieved, "It is of no value to us."

"If you could arrange for it to be transferred to the transporter room, I'll arrange for it to be sent to my ship;" Yar offered.

"Of course," Warden Hash seemed even more pleased by that prospect.

* * *

Bashir's stasis tube was beamed aboard the _Pathfinder_-class courier _USS Pony Express_. In the transporter room, an emergency medical team waited as well as Lt. Commander Sarina Douglas, formerly the Deputy Chief of Security for Deep Space Nine. Of course, Yar was one of the few aboard that knew of Douglas' ultimate loyalty to Section 31. And Yar didn't care. She was just grateful she could stop pretending to be a doctor.

"Is he all right?" Douglas worriedly asked Yar as the medical team opened the stasis tube and went to work.

Yar gave Douglas a pained look, "All of the readings were exactly as I was told they should. He reads as dead. Whether or not he really is will be proven here."

The Starfleet medical team worked over Bashir, extracting the nanoprobes that Bashir had unknowingly ingested. They'd placed his body is a death-like state and were keeping his cells from deteriorating while he was held in that condition. Since Douglas and her cohorts aboard the _Pony Express_ had all arrived wearing Starfleet Security gold, the crew thought they were assisting a Starfleet secret mission. The mission _was _secret. It just wasn't for Starfleet.

"I'll be getting changed now and then I'll tell Captain Rodrigo what our destination coordinates are," Yar told Douglas.

"While you're at it, let 'Lieutenants' Riley and Smith know it's time to start preparing to plug our potential leaks," Douglas calmly instructed.

Yar grinned, "You really are a cold hearted bitch. I can respect that."

* * *

Color returned to Bashir's normally swarthy flesh as the nanoprobes' purpose was altered and they began to revive his autonomic systems. Section 31 had received samples of Seven of Nine's nanoprobes when she arrived from the Delta Quadrant. It had taken a decade but S31 scientists had modified them to accomplish exactly what they had.

Bashir's eyes came open and as his vision cleared he saw Douglas leaning over him. Her expression was one of hope and yearning. He smiled back at her.

"Hello Sarina, how did you get in here?" he wondered.

Douglas smiled, "I came aboard the _Pony Express_ and now you're aboard too," Douglas informed him.

That momentarily startled him, "I'm not on Andoria anymore?"

"No, once you were pronounced dead they wanted to get rid of your body as fast as possible," Douglas' eyes danced with merriment.

"I died?" Bashir had to ask. He felt fine.

"Technically speaking you were dead," Douglas corrected herself, "But the truth was your body was being held in a form of stasis by Borg nanoprobes."

Bashir wanted to ask more questions but Douglas shushed him, "You need to be examined to make certain there are no permanent complications from the procedure. And then you'll be brought to our quarters and I can speak more freely there."

Bashir frowned but he nodded his acquiescence, "Very well then."

Douglas had a foreboding feeling, _He knows and he isn't very happy about it._

* * *

Later Bashir was able to sit up in a soft chair in Douglas' assigned guest quarters. He gave her a baleful look, "I take it my mysterious 'death' and resurrection came courtesy of Section 31?"

"Julian, you're out of prison and being taken somewhere safe where you can adjust to a life of freedom and be brought up to speed on how you can help me serve Section 31," Douglas said to him.

"As if I owe them something," Bashir sadly realized.

"If it weren't for my connections with Section 31 you'd still be rotting at the bottom of an Andorian hole," Douglas felt more than a little frustrated.

"And I'm grateful I'm out of prison," Bashir admitted, "But I'd hoped if I ever went free we could enjoy a life together."

"We can," Douglas assured him, "But this is my life. With or without you. I'd prefer you were with me but I can manage on my own. And don't bother begging to go back to Starfleet. They'd just as soon consign you to that pit again."

"Perhaps you're right," Bashir allowed, "I need to consider all of my options before reaching a decision."

Douglas had always known it would go this way. She just hoped she was wrong about what would come next.

* * *

In Brin Macen's office aboard the Serenity space station owned by Outbound Ventures, Inc, Macen's assistant, Bryce Fanning, paged her boss, "Captain, Admiral Forger is holding for you on the secure channel."

_"I'll be right there,"_ she could hear the suppressed groan in his voice.

Despite Fanning's prediction, Macen arrived in record time. She smirked, "So how is Celeste doing?"

Macen scolded her, "I was in conference with Tom Riker and Kathy Tyrol and you know it."

"So you should be grateful for the interruption," Fanning said sagely.

Macen had to admit she had a point. Tom Riker was CO of Serenity Station and Macen's former XO. Kathy Tyrol was the CEO of Outbound Ventures. The yearly review revolving around the station's expenditures and resource allocations was always tedious. And Fanning knew Macen would rather spend time with Celeste Rockford. After all, she was his wife.

"We'll see," Macen allowed at last.

"Well, get in there. Admiral Forger is still holding," Fanning motioned towards Macen's own office.

Macen kowtowed to Fanning before slipping into his office. He sat down at his desk and activated the comp/comm. The UFP symbol was replaced by Amanda Forger's frowning visage.

"This conversation is already off to a good start," Macen quipped.

_"Julian Bashir died in Andorian custody today," _Forger informed him, _"They have no cause of death. He simply stopped living."_

"That sounds...odd," Macen admitted, "Have they turned the body over to Starfleet?"

_"They have and this is where it gets even stranger. A courier ship by the name _USS Pony Express_ had already been diverted from its normal run and was waiting for the Andorian's call. They've already picked up the body and exited Sector 004. Prior to their diversion, they took on four additional crewmen. Unfortunately there's no trail leading to the arrival of the additional crew or why they diverted the ship."_

"Are you certain the additional crewmen were the cause behind the ship being out of its normal route?" Macen asked.

_"The three so-called 'mission specialist' were led by one Lt. Commander Sarina Douglas,"_ Forger threw at him.

"So you think Section 31 killed Bashir and made off with the body," Macen surmised.

_"Don't you?"_ Forger wanted to know.

"That would only make sense if Bashir weren't truly dead," Macen warned her.

Forger grew uncertain before she resolved whatever concern had been holding her back, _"Brin, Starfleet Medical has been working with Borg nanoprobes to induce a form of death-like stasis in a living host. The idea is to use the capacity to stabilize severely wounded officers in the field until they can reach a proper medical facility."_

"And anything Starfleet is working on Section 31 will be mirroring," Macen caught on.

_"Or surpass because Starfleet Medical hasn't even begun clinical trials yet,"_ Forger divulged.

"And you want me to find the courier boat and recover Bashir's remains, living or otherwise;" Macen gathered.

_"With deductive reasoning like that you must be an intelligence agent,"_ Forger retorted.

"Very droll, Amanda;" Macen replied, "Does Starfleet have any idea where the courier is headed now?"

_"The ship's Tactical Officer managed to get a partial message out naming Pacifica as their next port of call. Which since the _Pony Express_ is strictly assigned to the Beta Quadrant that doesn't make a lot of official sense."_

"Pacifica is at the edge of the Orion Arm if I recall correctly," Macen sought to remember.

_"Brin, I'm worried about the courier's crew,"_ Forger confided, _"Section 31 isn't renowned for leaving witnesses."_

"Neither are they prone to eliminating Starfleet personnel unnecessarily," Macen reminded her.

_"And if Douglas deems it necessary to secure the secrecy around the nanoprobes?"_ Forger posed the obvious question.

"Then you know as well as I Douglas and her agents won't hesitate to eliminate the ship and crew," Macen summed it up, "Except if Bashir _is_ alive then they'll have to do it in such a way that he never learns of what happened."

_"I'm just surprised Bashir hasn't tried contacting Starfleet yet,"_ Forger admitted.

"Amanda, Starfleet remanded him over to the Andorians. He probably thinks they will again without hesitation," Macen counseled her, "And Douglas just rescued him and there's no stronger emotions than love and gratitude."

_"And of course he's proven he's in love with Douglas and he'll be even more grateful now that she's freed him,"_ Forger groaned.

"And she truly loves him as well," Macen stated.

_"I take it your skills as a 'Listener' confirmed that?"_ Forger inquired.

"They didn't have to," Macen shook his head, "It's pretty obvious to anyone that meets her. I think if L'Haan had intended this pairing as a honey trap she seriously underestimated the chemistry between these two."

_"You need to get underway,"_ Forger determined, _"Your position is closer to Pacifica than the _Pony Express'_ origination point in the Beta Quadrant. But a _Pathfinder_-class ship can easily outpace you and with four nacelles and two warp cores, she can run at higher speeds almost indefinitely. And her max speed is Warp 9.92 while the _Obsidian_ maxes out at Warp 8. That means she'll reach Pacifica first and be gone before you get there."_

"I rather doubt Pacifica is their final destination," Macen warned, "We don't know much about what's beyond Pacifica and Mira. There's a lot of unexplored Alpha Quadrant yet."

_Which is why the _Vanguard_, the _Dauntless_, the _Specter_, and the _Sentinel_ have all been sent out for that area to explore those unknown regions. Captain Tom Magnum is leading the thrust from the _Vanguard_,"_ Forger revealed.

"I met Magnum when he was XO aboard the _Wellington_," Macen recalled, "We seriously disagreed over his idea of 'border security'."

_"Magnum is still very opinionated but he won two Pike Medals of Valor during the Dominion War and a third against the Borg, and a fourth against the Argyn and his fifth, and last, against the Iridian Enforcers. Just before accepting this assignment, he pushed back a Tzenkethi incursion near Starbase 621 without firing a shot. He has the aptitude we need to lead an exploratory mission and is well prepared for unknown emergencies."_

"Is this leading to a point?" Macen wondered.

_"Magnum reported finding a closed system around a planet the natives called 'Safehold'. From what he could gather, they provide a refuge to anyone for a price. And they seemed to have the firepower to secure their borders. Magnum commands a _Nebula_-class heavy cruiser and he wouldn't recommend testing their resolve."_

"Where's this 'Safehold' located?" Macen asked.

_"One hundred light years into the frontier from Mira and Pacifica and one hundred light years rimward from the Tholian Assembly's borders," _Forger explained.

"I think I know just the person to act as a guide," Macen grinned.

Forger looked pained, _"Not Harri Mudd."_

"Mudd saved your life," Macen reminded her, "And she has all the qualifications for needing sanctuary."

_"Mudd was well paid for her efforts on my behalf as well as the exorbitant fees you've been paying her ever since,"_ Forger complained.

"And I thought the Federation operated a cashless society," Macen chided her, "And here you are dickering over price."

_"Laugh it up, mister;"_ Forger almost snapped back, _"The Federation still holds a limited amount of hard currency reserves. We have the largest reserves based upon the fact we have the greatest access to latinum mines but we still only have so much and Harri Mudd is going to bankrupt us."_

"Amanda, I need some who knows the local conditions;" Macen told her.

_"And you think Mudd qualifies?"_ Forger asked in a pained voice.

"So do you," Macen countered.

_"All right, take her;"_ Forger conceded, _"But only because I know you will anyway and slip her fee into your bill even if I say 'no'."_

"And here you thought Mike Reynolds only loved you for your cooking," Macen teased.

_"That's _Admiral _Reynolds to you, buster;"_ Forger scolded him.

"Yet only last year he was a mere mortal with four collar pips. Takes those away, put a bracketed one on each collar and suddenly I'm supposed to genuflect," Macen complained.

_"Alynna is right. You absolutely have no respect for the chain of command,"_ Forger retorted.

"That's funny coming from Alynna. She only respects the chains that have proven themselves to her," Macen rebutted Forger's statement.

Forger fell silent. She knew her mentor, Admiral Nechayev, had a tendency to circumvent obstacles that impeded her intelligence agents in the field. It was a trait she had to employ repetitively over the years for certain key agents.

Macen grew businesslike again, "What's the op if I find Bashir alive?"

_"What do you mean?"_ Forger stumbled over that query.

"Do I simply hand him over to Starfleet, and if so, what will they do with him?" Macen asked, "And will mitigating factors be part of the mental calculus if he returns to custody?"

_"If he surrenders we'll see if mitigating factors can be brought up,"_ Forger offered.

"That's no real bargain, Amanda. And you know it," Macen accused.

_"Your friend, Captain Ro Laren, has a few thoughts on the matter. Check with her and see what she's proposed to Starfleet regarding this contingency," _Forger directed.

"Amanda, the Andorians already think he's dead. Why change that?" Macen tried one last time.

_"And if they ever learn he's alive, they'll want him back. Just check in with Ro. You might find your answer with her,"_ Forger reiterated.

Macen wasn't happy and it showed, "All right, I'll assemble my crew and get underway ASAP."

Forger nodded her approval, _"Good luck."_

* * *

"Sarina, I'm well enough to move about the ship now;" Bashir insisted.

Douglas sighed. She'd kept Bashir sequestered for three days now and he was growing restless. He was beginning to see this set of quarters as just another prison cell.

"And you yourself once warned me that doctor's are the worst patients," Sarina lightly laughed.

"I knew I'd regret admitting that to you one day," Bashir faux grumbled.

"It's a moot point anyway, Julian. We arrived at our layover point," Douglas told him.

"Which is?" Bashir wanted to know.

"Mira," Douglas said succinctly, "But that's just our jumping off point."

"Then what is our true destination?" Bashir was full of eager energy again.

"We're leaving the Federation for unexplored, well, recently explored space;" Douglas could see she was just stoking Bashir's mental fires, "We're going to a planet called 'Safehold'."

"Quark mentioned the place one time," Bashir remembered, "He said if his cousin Gala was ever to come after him it's where he would travel to."

Douglas scrutinized Bashir's thoughtful expression and realized he was being forthright, "But you don't actually know anything about the planet?"

"No," Bashir answered honestly, "Should I?"

Douglas smiled, "No, but suffice it to say you'll be free from the Andorians there."

"But they think I'm dead," Bashir protested, "Why would they think about trying to find me?"

"Because, Julian, imperial assassins draw a lot of media scrutiny. Your face will be recognized across known space and beyond. Your image has been splashed across two quadrants. They probably even recognize you on Talos IV," Douglas reminded him, "And what can be recognized can be reported to Andorian Imperial Security."

Douglas allowed that to sink in before continuing, "What happens now is some misdirection to draw attention away from you so that we can discreetly slip you back into the Federation."

Bashir pondered that before asking, "How did Section 31 develop the nanoprobes used on me?"

"We copied research done by Starfleet Medical. Of course we were able to proceed further because we were able to get past the clinical trial stage," Douglas said.

"And who did you test them on?" Bashir had a foreboding feeling.

"We took volunteers from the Elba II psychiatric colony," Douglas explained, "If the trial was successful they'd get transferred to the Tantalus colony."

"And what defined 'success'?" Basher's gut began to clench.

"If they survived," Douglas shared.

"_If_ they survived?" Bashir was appealed by her cavalier attitude, "You knew they might not?"

"At least during the initial trials," Douglas divulged, "They all knew the risks."

"Sarina, these patients all suffered from acute mental illness," Bashir protested, "And they were being held in a psychiatric prison facility. Of course they say 'yes'."

"But the whole point here is without those risks being taken you wouldn't have been freed," Douglas angrily told him.

"I'd rather be imprisoned than be a cause for murder," Bashir declared.

"Spare me your self righteous hypocrisy," Douglas snapped, "I _saw_ the look on your face when you learned you were free. A rescue attempt would have cost more lives on both sides. Would you have preferred that?"

"Of course not," Bashir admitted.

Douglas closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "Just get your uniform on. We'll be transporting down to Mira's surface in fifteen minutes. You'll finally get to meet my fellow agents who are part of this mission."

"There's a mission?" Bashir was incredulous.

"Julian, there's _always_ a mission;" Douglas said wearily, "This time you're just part of it."

"Why am I getting into my old Starfleet uniform?" Bashir wondered, "Surely I've been court martialled in absentia by now."

"That was a technicality that Starfleet overlooked," Douglas shared with him, "Largely based upon efforts by Captain Ro. She's in the majority camp that believed you didn't have a clue as to what L'Haan had recruited you for."

"I didn't," Bashir reminded Douglas.

"A technicality," Douglas dismissed the notion.

"A very important one to me," Bashir insisted.

"I'm offering you a chance to protect the Federation in ways you've never dreamt of before," Douglas enthused.

"And probably never wanted to," Bashir replied, "What happens if I refuse?"

"Then I will leave you behind on Safehold and I will resume my mission," Douglas explained, "But I'm hoping that won't be your choice because if it is I may never see you again."

"Unless you come with me," Bashir offered, "Think of it, the entire frontier lies before us."

"Julian ever since I joined Starfleet Intelligence, and later Section 31, I've spent more time beyond the Federation's borders then within them," Douglas said wearily, "Deep Space Nine was a rest stop in my journey. I've served the Federation faithfully without being able to actually enjoy the very society that I'm protecting."

"But don't you see, that's to isolate you so that you won't be swayed by the moral codes of the Federation;" Bashir insisted.

"Even when I'm in the Federating I'm isolated because of my genetic status," Douglas retorted.

"I was afraid you'd say that," Bashir said glumly.

"Join me!" Douglas enthused, "Put your talents to what they can be best used for."

"I have been," Bashir snapped back, "I'm a doctor at the gate to the frontier. Not some biological weapons developer."

"You _were_ a doctor at the gate of the frontier," Douglas said sullenly, "Now you're a fugitive."

"Better a fugitive than a murderer," Bashir struck out at her.

"You wouldn't be a murderer," Douglas argued.

"No, my creations would be the murderers. I'd be devising untraceable pathological means of eliminating Section 31's enemies," Bashir snapped back.

"On occasion," Douglas admitted.

"My God, Sarina;" Bashir was appalled, "Haven't you heard the adage, 'first do no harm'?"

"But sometimes you have to do harm to prevent a greater threat from emerging," Douglas honed her argument, "What's worse, the deaths of a few or the deaths of billions?"

"Even _one_ death is one too many," Bashir countered, "Sloan tried that argument with me when I'd discovered Section 31 had infected the Founders with a lethal virus. He killed himself in order to unsuccessfully guard the cure."

"Section 31's plan would have ended the war," Douglas claimed

"Sarina, delivering the cure to the Founders not only ended the war but secured us a nonaggression pact," Bashir pointed out, "It was that versus the Jem'Hadar going on a genocidal campaign to avenge the deaths of their gods. What does the Vulcan dictate of 'the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few' say about that?"

"It says it's time to get to the transporter room," Douglas grated, "Agents Smith, Riley, and Yar are waiting for us there and they've been waiting long enough already."

* * *

Three humans awaited Bashir and Douglas' arrival. Yar spoke first while the others sized Bashir up, "You're certainly looking better than the last time I saw you."

"You went to the prison?" Bashir was surprised.

"Yes, and you were a rather Andorian-like shade of blue;" Yar grinned.

"So you're a doctor?" Bashir wondered.

"No, I'm from Turkana IV. We basically subscribed to a 'survival of the fittest' mentality there," Yar shared.

"I'm Eden Smith," the younger woman purred as she took Bashir's hand into her own.

"Are always 'on'?" Douglas asked Smith as she pulled the other woman's hands off of Bashir's.

"Hey, you wanted us to distract the captain;" Smith shrugged, "Colin here helped in that."

Riley smirked, "Don't advertise that too loudly. You may give the good Doctor ideas."

"I think he's strictly hetero," Smith assessed, "Or am I wrong?"

"You'd be correct," Bashir looked from Smith to Riley, "Sorry."

"Too bad for you," Riley chuckled.

"Can we focus?" Douglas interrupted.

"Someone feeling threatened?" Riley quietly catcalled.

"Our transport is awaiting us," Douglas informed them all, "And our cover is intact."

"Do you really believe anyone will but that we're Starfleet deserters?" Yar asked.

"We have Julian. Having an imperial assassin will bolster our street credentials," Douglas assured her.

"Besides, the best lies are the partially true ones;" Smith chimed in.

"You should meet my friend Garak," Bashir opined.

"Oh, I have. He made me the loveliest gown all while pretending not to know my actual vocation," Smith recalled fondly.

"And that vocation is?" Bashir asked.

"Sorry, Doctor. You'll have to pump me for answers," Smith wore a lascivious smirk, "I'll let you know when I've been pumped enough."

"Agent Smith, is Doctor Bashir's presence going to prove to be a distraction?" Douglas suddenly snapped.

"No," Smith quickly replied.

"Good, because otherwise you'll be left aboard this ship when the rest of us depart;" Douglas warned her.

Smith blanched but she hid it well, "Understood."

"Good," Douglas said firmly, "Ishara, if you'd call the transporter chief back in here. We'll get underway."


	2. Chapter 2

12

The transfer to the surface was a painless affair. Douglas led the group across the port area to a rather disreputable watering hole. Patrons from every imaginable species frequented the bar. The sight of their Starfleet uniforms ended all activity inside. The Security colors worn by the Section 31 agents had a particular effect upon the customers.

As Douglas steered her assemblage through the drinking venue their holstered phasers were also noted. Bashir noted the profusion of carcinogenic smoke that blanketed the air with some distaste. He noticed a hand waved at Douglas and she guided the others towards its owner.

Bashir recognized the female Boslic captain before Douglas could speak. Douglas nodded her greeting, "Hello Rionoj, it's good of you to make it."

"And it's good of you to pay me so much latinum to do so," Rionoj smirked, "Care for a drink? It's already on your tab."

"We'll stay for one," Douglas consented, "And then we need to get moving."

"So what is it the Deputy Chief of Security and Chief Medical Officer of Deep Space Nine need to run from?" Rionoj slyly asked, "Rumor has it the pair of you assassinated the Andorian Emperor."

"Quark has a name you know," Douglas said wryly, "And you shouldn't pay him for old news that can be obtained on any commercial news broadcast."

"Oh, he didn't have to tell me that;" Rionoj agreed, "But he did have the juiciest news about the good Doctor's death. And I see he's been resurrected so I gather death didn't suit him."

"So why were you checking up on me, Rionoj?" Douglas sharply inquired, "You already said you were well paid."

"But the Andorians have placed a rather large bounty on the head of the actual shooter that killed poor Thrak," Rionoj maneuvered towards the point of the conversation, "I think it would behoove you to pay me an equal, or greater, sum to forget where I've dropped you off at after we reach our destination."

"And why didn't you just try and collect the bounty?" Douglas asked.

Rionoj wore a rueful smile, "I watched you clear out Quark's bar singlehandedly when a group of drunken Klingons tried to tear the place apart. I thought this approach would be more amicable."

"Plus you knew you wouldn't survive the first option," Douglas said in steely tones.

"There was that too," Rionoj allowed.

"So what kind of place is this 'Safehold'?" Bashir suddenly interjected.

All eyes fell on him and Rionoj gave him a pitying look, "You're not that bright after all, are you, Doctor?"

Bashir felt thoroughly insulted, just as Rionoj planned. Douglas retook the conversation, "You have berths for us all?"

"I have two rooms to spare with four bunks apiece. You'll be cozy enough," Rionoj said somewhat merrily.

"I suppose you have the credit transfer form all prepared?" Douglas asked wearily.

"I just happen to have it here," Rionoj impossibly pulled a padd from somewhere in her skintight bodysuit.

Douglas imprinted it, "There. And this had better be the last of it."

"Don't you trust me?" Rionoj asked in mock horror.

"Not as far as I can bounce you," Douglas informed the Boslic.

Rionoj laughed, "Good girl. Now let's finish our drinks and step outside beyond the range of the establishment's transporter inhibitors and get off this rock."

"How far will we have to go to get out of range?" Bashir asked.

"Just outside the door," Rionoj spoke as if to a dullard.

"You'll have to forgive him. He's just monumentally naive," Douglas explained.

"Mmm hmmm," Rionoj nodded her agreement.

Bashir's cheeks flushed from embarrassment. Smith thought it was the cutest thing ever.

* * *

The _Obsidian_ docked at Deep Space Nine's outer pylon nine. Ro met Macen and Rockford at the airlock. The rest of the crew was staying aboard while they collected Harri Mudd for this little venture.

"She's here but she isn't happy about it," Ro warned the pair.

"Let's brighten her day then," Rockford suggested.

Ro took them to Quark's Bar, Gaming Establishment, Holosuite Emporium, and Ferengi Embassy to Bajor. Mudd's platinum head of hair was easy to pick out. Station Security Chief Lt. Commander Jefferson Blackmer was filling out a report while Quark stood by Mudd's table and tried to press charges.

Ro swooped in, "What seems to be the problem here, Commander?"

"Quark is accusing..." Blackmer began.

"That's _Ambassador_ Quark to you," Quark dutifully huffed. Ro knew he always played the ambassador card when he thought it would benefit him in some way, "I don't know why my brother made me ambassador to Bajor if no one will use my title."

"Most ambassadors aren't part-time dignitaries and full time bartenders," Ro countered, "And Rom only made you an ambassador so that your establishment would be foreign soil and wouldn't fall under the Federation's economic policies. So your so-called 'idiot' brother did you the greatest favor he could. And how many times have you actually had to appear before the Council of Ministers?"

"Um...let me see..." Quark searched his memory.

"Four times," Ro reminded him, "In thirteen years."

"Yes, but they've come to me;" Quark insisted.

"Well, trust me, they're grateful it's only been four times;" Ro declared.

"Yes, but she's still cheating me!" he thrust an angry finger at Mudd's head.

She lunged forward and snapped her jaw shut. Quark jumped back and yelped, "She assaulted me!"

"She didn't even touch you," Ro groaned, "But if it makes you feel better I think it's because you outran her."

Blackmer pulled Quark further away from Mudd. Ro took over the so-called "inquiry". As the station's former Chief of Security she was more than qualified to.

"What's your side of it?" Ro asked Mudd.

"I haven't cheated anyone," Mudd insisted, "I merely stood by the dabo wheel and pointed out how Quark was cheating the players through a magnetic repulsor field coil that bounces the ball out of the chosen slot."

"Lies!" Quark thundered with appropriate umbrage.

"And he demanded that you pay for the lost revenues," Ro grasped it immediately.

"Which I adamantly refuse to do," Mudd declared.

"Which is when I got called in. _Directly_," Blackmer reported, "It seems _Ambassador _Quark has found yet another heretofore unknown way of tapping into the station's internal comm network."

Ro glared at the Ferengi, "Quark, that's a mandatory fourteen day sentence in a holding cell."

"It was an accident," Quark protested, "Besides I have diplomatic immunity."

"That's the oldest dodge in civilized history," Ro retorted.

"Check with the Council of Ministers," Quark insisted, "They granted me the privilege."

"Quark, forgive the so-called 'debt'," Ro instructed him. "Or I'll shut this bar down and force you to permanently relocate to your establishment on Bajor. Commander Blackmer, have a team of engineers inspect the dabo wheels under your supervision."

Blackmer grinned, "Yes, Captain."

"You can't do that!" Quark protested, "It's an embassy!"

"According to the schematic you gave me, the area apportioned to be an embassy is that private conference room you have up for rent;" Ro threw back at him, "The rest is a bar and entertainment facility, which falls under jurisdiction of the station's administration, by the way. If the dabo wheels have been tampered with, they get confiscated and your gaming license gets revoked."

"I'll forgive the debt," Quark said sullenly.

"Before you send Command Blackmer my way again, did you rig the tables?" Ro asked.

Quark just gave her a toothy smile and Ro nodded, "That's what I thought. The repulsors are being dismantled and you'll be undergoing random weekly equipment inspections for the next year. Got it?"

"Yes," Quark was sullen again.

"Good," Ro said firmly, "Because my next step is to file a complaint with the First Minister and she can then have you declared persona non grata and you will be kicked out of the Bajoran Sector until such time as the Council of Ministers changes your status."

Blackmer had returned and Quark turned to him, "Can she do that?"

"In a heartbeat," Blackmer assured him.

"Fine," Quark was miffed, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have _paying_ customers to attend to."

As the Ferengi stomped off, Mudd turned to Ro;" Thank you, Captain."

"Don't thank me," Ro warned her, "I'd just as soon have you escorted back to your docking port, seal the airlock, and have you cast off while the _Defiant_ ran escort until you were in another sector."

Mudd looked around the room and saw Macen and Rockford near the bar, "Ah, I see."

Ro escorted Mudd to her increasingly frequent employers. She grinned, "I guess you are serious about hiring me. But where do you need me to guide you to?"

"Safehold," Macen informed her.

"Oh, hell no!" Mudd was adamant once again.

"You read my offer," Rockford replied, "You wouldn't be here if you hadn't seriously considered it. And you're being offered a considerable compensation package."

"I don't care about the numbers," Mudd was actually telling the truth about that, "The latinum is great for any other job. But I'm not going back to Safehold. Ever."

"I think the _Freehold_ is long overdue for a safety inspection," Macen mused aloud.

Ro latched onto the idea, "I think you're right. The computer flagged her when she arrived. I'll pull Chief O'Brien and Lt. Commander Nog off of their usual duties and put them to the task. As my Chief and Deputy Chief of Operations, I'm certain they'll find every single hazard or code violation."

"_You bastard_!" Mudd hissed between clenched teeth.

"You really have no idea," Macen advised her.

Mudd seriously weighed her options. There wasn't a single item on her ship she hadn't had modified outside of code and regulation. And she'd even installed hidden weapons packages.

"Okay," Mudd sighed, "You have a guide. When do we ship out?"

"Immediately," Macen told her.

"Hey! Give a girl a little warning. I need to prep the _Freehold_. Get whoever you want aboard and we'll get underway."

"We're not taking your ship," Macen revealed to her, "We're taking mine."

"This isn't even remotely funny," Mudd growled.

"It isn't meant to be," Macen said, "You'll seal the _Freehold's_ hatch. Captain Ro will seal the airlock. No one will go aboard her while you're away. Ro has also volunteered to waive any and all docking fees while you're gone."

"Yeah, I bet she has;" Mudd grumbled.

"Harri," Rockford intervened, "You read my offer. Can you really afford to turn it down?"

And here's where the economics of the thing mattered. Mudd knew she'd make what she typically earned in a year's time with this single job, "We'll do the usual. Half up front and half upon completion."

"Agreed," Rockford fished a padd out of her jacket, "Take a look at this."

Mudd sped read through the contract and then looked up, "What's this 'contingency clause'?"

"A little incentive program," Rockford told her, "If everyone gets back unharmed I'll double the second payment."

"That could take some creativity but I'm up for a challenge;" Mudd decided.

* * *

Two hours after the _Obsidian_ had departed from Deep Space Nine, Macen called a meeting of the SID team in their dedicated briefing room. Mudd was included in the group. A fact which did not settle well with some members of the team.

Macen laid out the basic parameters of the mission before opening up the forum to comments and questions. Shade was quick with a remark, "This is going to blow our supposed truce with Section 31 straight to hell."

"Other than apprehending Sarina Douglas we have no interest in any other Section 31 personnel," Macen informed the group.

"What about this Dr. Bashir?" Angelique Kerber inquired, "Doesn't he qualify as such?"

"No," Macen clarified, "Bashir has been used as a pawn in all of this by Section 31."

Bailey Smith tugged at Kerber's sleeve. Kerber nodded at her longtime friend, "So what do we do about Bashir?"

"Officially we're to apprehend Bashir and hand him over to Starfleet to be given to the Andorians," Macen watched Kerber and Smith bristle, "Unofficially; Bashir still has friends that are trying to change that outcome."

"Bashir was a dupe yet the Andorians convicted him anyway," Kerber shot back, "So where is the justice in handing him over to them again?"

"The Andorians know Bashir didn't kill Thrak or anyone else for that matter," Macen shared.

"Yet the convicted him anyway?" Arianna Forte yelped.

"It wouldn't be the first time justice was trampled under by the wheels of expediency," Lee Kang stated, "The new emperor had to make a show of power in order to convince the populace he could hold the reins. Bashir was just a victim of political science."

"Yet it didn't do Emperor Thor any good," Tracy Ebert read off of her padd, "He was deposed and executed by the military chieftain as he then became emperor."

"I've met Bashir," Daggit voiced, "Back when our commando unit was stationed on DS9. He seemed a decent sort. Very idealistic."

"Bashir was a template in Tessa's basic personality programming," Parva pointed out.

"She's right," Tessa said, "They wouldn't use a monster in my core programming."

"Think again," Macen replied, "Look up Crell Moset and get back to me."

Tessa's eyes went vacant and then she exclaimed, "Oh! I see what you mean."

"I'm willing to give Bashir a lot of latitude and help him plead his case _if_ he doesn't run," Macen shared.

"What can our 'expert' tell us about the local environment where we're headed?" Shade asked disdainfully.

Mudd took it in stride, "Over a century ago one Captain James T. Kirk and his crew discovered a world known as 'Sanctuary'. The natives offered protection at a price. It became a criminal haven. But it eventually went the way of Turkana IV and other worlds that broke down into pure anarchy. Few people travel to Sanctuary these days except the Orion Syndicate who supply all sides with arms and medication. Sanctuary is basically a teeming cess pit of death and destruction. Safehold is a modern equivalent of Sanctuary that hasn't devolved into chaos."

"How can Safehold secure its customers safety?" Lee wanted to know.

"Safehold's citizens are armed to the teeth. Literally," Mudd explained, "Every native is armed at all times and they have an impressive array of frigates, system cutters, and strike fighters. They don't have anything powerful enough to challenge a Starfleet heavy cruiser one on one but they use numbers tp overwhelm foes. This ship wouldn't last long against the Safehold security forces. The situation on the ground is even more intensive."

"But what if they've heard of Outbound Ventures?" Forte wanted to know, "Won't that preclude us from entry?"

"Half of the mercenary companies in the quadrant maintain offices on Safehold," Mudd revealed, "They provide security for high rollers that even have enemies among their fellow fugitives."

"At my suggestion, Starfleet has never returned us to the 'active' list of contractors working for the SID;" Macen told them all, "Our approach is twofold. One is that we're protecting Harri here and our second initiative is to secure a branch office on Safehold."

"And how are we playing that?" Daggit asked.

"To the galaxy at large, we're just a security company looking for latinum," Macen stated, "And what better way to keep tabs on the greatest criminals in the quadrant than to put an office in their midst."

"If we have a mercenary connection why isn't Celeste using Annika Ryst's memories to act as our guide?" Parva wanted to know.

"Annika never traveled to Safehold," Rockford shared, "She only knew of it."

"So that leads us back to protecting Harri while she serves as our expert," Macen asserted.

"Which will be a factual occurrence," Rockford chimed in, "Several of Harri's fall guys and patsies from schemes gone wrong are currently reported to be seeking refuge from the authorities on Safehold. Needless to say, some of them may seek retribution."

Mudd tried not to let her startled expression show too much. How had Rockford dug that up? Mudd was suddenly very happy she was one Rockford's side and not the other way around.

"So we'll be telling enough truth to pass inspection," Macen assured everyone, "And Kathy Tyrol has dispatched the _Guinevere_ to Safehold to ferry a security detachment to man the new offices."

"Oh, I bet Jennifer is just loving that;" Parva snorted while referencing Captain Gardner of the _Lancelot_-class _SS Guinevere_.

"Captain Gardner is especially suited for the task," Macen replied, "She's a Novan and Terra Nova descended into anarchy only to find their way back out of it. They're especially given towards orderly conduct."

Macen let the fact that Terra Nova was the hub of Sector 003's FBI, ISA, and Starfleet administrations fall by the wayside. Macen changed topics, "You have access to everything Starfleet has recently gathered on Safehold. I suggest you look it over and also remember you only have four days to break it down."

Macen dismissed everyone but asked Mudd to stay, "Harri, we need to talk about your personal style."

"What about it?" Mudd was already irked.

"It's rather provocative and it could be distracting to certain members of the crew," Macen warned her.

"I'm not dressing more modestly for you or anyone else," Mudd hotly declared, "And if anyone can't keep it in their pants I'll cut their dicks off."

"I'm more worried about you and latinum," Macen admitted, "You have a tendency to gather everyone else's latinum and walking away with it. You could end up facing a very disgruntled lynch mob."

"Reference my cutting their dicks off," Mudd grumped.

"No gambling and no confidence schemes," Rockford insisted, "You're being well paid. You don't need the grief the extra latinum would cost you."

"You two are no fun," Mudd pouted.

"Read your employment contract again," Rockford urged.

Mudd pulled her personal padd out and perused it before finally remarking, "Damn."

"For the most interesting experience aboard I suggest you hang out with Tessa," Rockford said.

"The EMH?" Mudd was surprised.

"Tessa is that and so much more," Rockford assured her, "She has wide and varied interests and we've set up Cargo Bay Two as a makeshift holodeck."

"Just don't be surprised if the cargo bay incorporates the physical realities of the cargo stored there in its environments," Macen advised her.

"Okay, where do I find Tessa?" Mudd inquired.

"That's easy," Rockford grinned, "Computer, summon EMH"

Tessa suddenly appeared in her tank top and little else, "What's the emergency?"

"Harri needs a playmate," Rockford revealed, "And since you have free time right now..."

"Cool!" Tessa enthused, "What are your hobbies?"

"Making money and having sex," Mudd quickly replied.

"I can't help with money but I'm an expert on sex," Tessa smirked.

"Maybe we'll find out later," Mudd agreed, "For now, what's Cargo Bay Two have to offer?"

"Follow me!" Tessa insisted and darted out of the briefing room with Mudd on her heels.

"I hope Harri doesn't corrupt Tessa," Rockford said as she met Macen's eyes.

"I think Tessa corrupted herself already," Macen opined.

"Just wait until Harri discovers Tessa's subroutine where she grows a penis," Rockford sighed.

"I don't think having or lacking a penis would slow Harri down anyway," Macen observed.

"And if she draws Galen 3 into it?" Rockford wondered, "After all, he and Tessa are a couple."

"Then I'd say Harri would have the time of her life...especially if Tessa grew her penis," Macen surmised.

Rockford groaned, "Okay, I'll ramrod my group so that they read everything."

"Include Tony, Rab, and Parva in that," Macen requested, "I'll watch over Tracy, Angelique, and Bailey."

"Sure, take the easy job;" Rockford accused.

"I know how to appeal to their mentality a little better, that's all;" Macen reassured her.

Rockford had to admit that as an ex-Maquis, he did indeed know how to guide the three ex-terrorists better than she.

* * *

The Boslic freighter _Syris_ was well underway towards the star system containing the planet Safehold. As Rionoj had promised, there were two cabins with four bunks apiece. Bashir and Douglas shared one cabin while Yar, Eden Smith, and Riley shared the other. But on the third day of their voyage, Yar burst into Douglas and Bashir's cabin.

"You have to get me out of that room," Yar pleaded, "Eden can restrain herself but Colin Riley is trying to coerce me into having sex with him and he simply won't take 'no' for an answer. If he presses too much harder I'm going to have to kill him to make my point."

"You could simply give in and get it out of the way," Douglas suggested.

"Please, I do have standards;" Yar retorted.

"I'll have a talk with him," Douglas offered.

"Or she could move in here," Bashir voiced, "I could switch to a top bunk and let her have mine."

Yar blinked in surprise. Douglas had been perpetuating the myth that everything had fallen back into place between her and Bashir. Obviously paradise had been lost.

"You really think so?" Douglas was a tad jealous and more than a little snide.

"I'll sleep atop your bottom bunk if it makes you feel better," Bashir allowed.

Douglas studied Yar's imploring look and relented, "Go grab your things."

"Will Riley settle down with Smith now?" Bashir inquired.

"There's bad blood between them. They'll share a third partner between them in the line of duty but they won't couple when it's just them involved," Douglas explained.

"They seem overly sexualized," Bashir commented.

Douglas shrugged, "Their proclivities placed them at odds within the FBI and the ISA but now they're the perfect honey traps for all occasions and genders."

"Yes, Agents Smith and Riley boasted about seducing the starship captain that brought us out of Andorian space;" Bashir recalled.

"Riley is always 'on' but Eden can choose to be quite persuasive and seductive when she wants to be. It's like she throws a switch off and on," Douglas observed.

"I wonder if she recalls life before she learned to throw the switch." Bashir asked.

"Why?" Douglas snapped, "Do you want her to throw her little switch for you?"

"Of course not," Bashir was getting weary of Douglas' irritability, "I've been faithful to you, Sarina. I'll continue to be faithful to you until I've lost all hope."

"And what hope is that, Julian?" Douglas couldn't mask her scorn.

"That we can have a life outside of Section 31," Bashir answered.

"You may as well give up now," Douglas said tersely.

"I'll take it under advisement," Bashir sadly replied.

The door opened and Yar reappeared, "Thank you for this."

"Don't mention it," Douglas retorted, "We could use the company."

"And maybe now you could explain what really happened to the _Pony Express_," Bashir suddenly interjected.

"What do you mean?" Douglas asked.

"We both know Section 31 loathes leaving behind witnesses to its operations. The crew of that ship knows I'm alive. So precisely how did you respond to that fact?" Bashir wanted to know.

"Ishara, tell him;" Douglas decided.

"I planted an override in their antimatter injector relays," Yar explained, "It was set on a timer. Four hours after the ship left us on Mira the microcharges in the override blew open the injectors. They began flooding the intermix chamber with antimatter and resulted in a warp core breach within minutes."

"Minutes?" Bashir scowled, "So there wasn't time for the crew to evacuate?"

"Theoretically the crew barely had time to acknowledge that there was a problem," Yar informed him.

Bashir locked his resentful gaze on Douglas, "Were you ever going to tell me?"

"After you'd pledged your loyalty to the agency and were ready to accept the necessity of the action," Douglas countered.

"That was never a likely event," Bashir snapped, "And I would think you of all people would know that."

"Don't become a loose end, Julian;" Douglas warned him, "The Director doesn't like loose ends. That fact is why I was allowed to liberate you."

"We'll have to see about that, won't we?" Bashir was outraged.

"Yes, we will;" Douglas said with infinite sadness.


	3. Chapter 3

10

The _Syris_ made orbit over Safehold the next day. The Section 31 agents and their charge beamed to the surface and Rionoj had her ship immediately break orbit. Her role in the affair was finished and she had other prospective payouts to pursue.

A security team scanned the new arrivals and a customs official accepted the latinum transfer that would enable them to stay on the planet. Subsequent transfers would grant them perks. But part of the purchase price arranged weeks in advance was habitation in an otherwise abandoned housing quad.

The quad was a small tower built around a hollow core. The quad had been abandoned after the death of the fugitive who'd rented it and his personnel had transferred to new employment after his passing. As such, the building had some squatters but had been left largely whole and in repair unlike many quads that were abandoned after heavy fighting between resident aliens.

* * *

Yar left their company at this time. Section 31 had left two runabouts on the surface. Yar took one and departed since she had other assignments to report to.

A sign above the large open blast doors that led into the quad declared this site to be named Paradise Havens. The inner courtyard enjoyed the noonday sun and Bashir's interest perked up when he saw an abandoned medical clinic on the ground level. The courtyard was filled with the homeless.

"I feel safer already," Bashir dryly remarked.

"The gang problem seems to be escalating since our last tour here," Riley remarked, "It doesn't help that there was an influx of Coalition forces from Turkana IV after the Alliance pushed them out. Not all of them are as reasonable as Ishara."

"That's not what you said about her when she left our cabin," Smith quipped.

"Stow it," Riley retorted.

"I'm surprised the locals haven't put an end to the internecine gang wars," Douglas commented.

"They actually profit from the fees the gang bosses pay and the mercs also pay out a percentage of their contract rates," Smith reminded Douglas, "So the locals profit from the increased carnage. It also doesn't hurt their position to keep the resident aliens fighting amongst themselves since they outnumber the natives twenty to one. Plus the Orion Syndicate is rumored to be making a huge push into the aliens' enclave as well as Iotian elements. With all sides employing mercs as security minders and combat advisors the situation is only going to deteriorate further."

"Lovely vacation spot you've chosen, Sarina;" Bashir quipped.

Douglas cast a scathing look his way, "You're the reason why we're here. Until the agency can determine how best to reinsert you into the Federation you, and by virtue us, are stuck beyond our native borders."

"Perhaps I should become a permanent resident," Bashir remarked, "There will certainly be no shortage of patients in an environment such as this."

"The Director anticipated your thinking along those lines," Douglas brightened, "We have supplies in the clinic you've been admiring and all of the equipment has been modernized and is fully operable. I can approach the various gangs and offer them a neutral place to get their wounded treated. With every combatant beholden to us, our security wouldn't be compromised by the mainstream elements."

"Plus it's just nice to help people in need once in awhile," Bashir baited Douglas.

"I totally agree," Douglas assured him, "We just differ in our reinterpretations of the word 'help'. I see a world dedicated to aiding and sheltering criminals and fugitives from justice. My idea of helping them is undermining them to the point that they flee Safehold and are apprehended by the various law enforcement entities pursuing them. Your clinic is the first cog in those wheels."

"I'm glad my plight is so convenient for you," Bashir quipped.

"Try to recall that the galaxy contains trillions of beings, not just you;" Douglas retorted, "We've risked a lot in freeing you and haven't asked for much in return. All you need to do is embrace the realities of your situation and stop playing up to your fantasies of being the great hero and the even greater martyr. You really want to help people and make a difference, join us in Section 31."

Bashir noted the careful usage of the word "us" rather than "me", "As I've said before, I'll take it under advisement."

"You'd better seriously consider it," was all Douglas had to say.

"I don't know if anyone else has noticed but the replimat located in this courtyard has been gutted for parts," Riley suddenly spoke up.

"A meal break would so us some good and introduce us to the locals," Douglas decided.

"I'll stay here if you don't mind," Bashir ventured.

"That's not happening, Julian;" Douglas warned him, "You're too important for us to lose to resident scavengers looking to hold you for a ransom. Plus, I'll put you in restraints and drag you behind us before I leave you behind."

Bashir was shocked by her vehemence. Where had the sweet Sarina Douglas he'd first encountered during the Dominion War gone? He nodded his acquiescence.

"That won't be necessary," Bashir advised Douglas.

Smith and Riley were greatly amused by this exchange.

* * *

The _Obsidian_ reached the solar system containing Safehold two days later. The science vessel's enhanced sensors had detected the three frigates that had been trailing the surveyor for almost forty-eight hours. The ships' designs were vaguely Romulan in nature, akin to the _Bird-of-Prey_ designs from the late 22nd Century and still utilized in an upgraded fashion by the Romulan Star Empire through the 23rd Century. These ship's actually more closely echoed the _Bird-of-Vengeance_ frigate classes that Romulan privateers had used throughout the 23rd Century within the confines of the Star Empire and into the unexplored regions of the Beta Quadrant beyond the Federation's reach.

At the edge of Safehold's star system, four cutters intercepted the Federation starship. Again, the Romulan ancestry of the ships was undeniable. And when the commander of the quartet hailed the _Obsidian_ and was revealed to be a Reman, it all made sense.

The Commander chuckled at Macen's obvious surprise before speaking, "Yes, I am a child of Remus."

"I wasn't aware that your people had ever settled on any worlds after adapting to the mines of Remus," Macen confessed.

"You mean, you weren't aware that the Romulans had ever allowed any of us to depart those mines alive," the Commander corrected Macen, "There was a great deal of confusion during the Star Empire's war with Earth. It made for some opportunities to escape the darkness of the dilithium mines."

"Over two thousand Reman slaves commandeered Romulan ore ships and fled out across the void. We reached this star system before our ships gave out on us. Building a new society, we eventually were approached by others seeking refuge and we opted to provide it for a price. Now it is what we are known for," the Commander imparted a history lesson.

"That being said, no Starfleet vessels will ever be allowed to enter our domain," the Commander warned Macen.

"We're a civilian vessel," Macen advised the Reman Commander, "We represent a security corporation that I own. Our mission her is two-fold, to provide security for a fugitive seeking refuge on your world and also to establish a corporate presence on your world."

"Transmit the details of your proposals and a verification of funds and I'll pass them along to my superiors," the Commander requested, "Once I have them you should receive a decision within one of your standard hours."

"Very well, prepare for our transmission along this signal;" Macen cued Edwin Zimbalist at OPS to send the data packet he'd prepared.

Zimbalist nodded and Macen turned back to the Reman, "I look forward to your reply."

"You may not," the Commander chuckled darkly.

* * *

An hour later Macen was given permission to proceed with stipulations. The Commander explained, "You may use support vessels to reach the surface but your starship must remain outside of our solar system. Two of my cutters will escort your ship wherever you decide to take her since I assume you will want it close at hand."

"Thank you, we'll launch within the hour;" Macen informed him.

Macen spoke to Ebert, "Tracy, get Aglaia up here at once and then gather your gear and report to the shuttle bay."

Ebert nodded and hit the 'call' button on the side of her console. This would transmit an automated summons to the designated relief pilot. There two other pilots aboard qualified to man the helm of the _Obsidian_ outside of Ebert and Aglaia. The ship's Executive Officer, Shannon Forger, would alert them of their change in designation.

"Any specific instructions before you go?" Forger asked Macen.

"Like he said, just skirt the system and standby to run like hell into it to get us out of things get hairy;" Macen told her.

"Right," Forger said warily.

* * *

Douglas had left Paradise Havens behind and was taking a meeting with Gomer. Gomer was a female Orion who somewhat secretly ran one of the five main gangs contesting control of the resident aliens' megacity. Over the course of the previous two days, Douglas had met with all of the other gang bosses while Smith and Riley got Paradise Havens' defense grid up and running and Bashir readied his clinic for its first patients.

Gomer was obviously displeased with Douglas, "I really should have you killed for slighting me like this. After all, of all the gang lords you've visited, I'm the _last_?"

"I simply saved the best for last," Douglas replied.

"Don't try and sugar coat this," Gomer warned Douglas.

"You have the most territory, the most arms, and the most personnel. Why shouldn't you also have the most patience?" Douglas wondered.

"I should still have you killed," Gomer pouted, "It just looks bad."

"You'd eventually succeed but you'd lose a lot of lives in the process," Douglas confided, "Including your own."

Gomer slyly smiled, "So what is it you want to discuss with everyone?"

"My people are setting up a medical clinic. I'm asking everyone to grant us neutral status so that we can treat people from all affiliations equally," Douglas explained.

"A clinic in Paradise Havens?" Gomer laughed, "And who is your doctor? You?"

"Julian Bashir is our physician," Douglas supplied the name, "Perhaps you've heard of him?"

"The imperial assassin?" Gomer was intrigued despite herself, "Although I heard the actual shooter was another. You perhaps. All right, I'll consider limiting my operations near Paradise Havens."

"I need a definite answer now," Douglas insisted.

"Or what?" Gomer asked.

Douglas exploded into action. She came up onto her feet and delivered a backspin kick to Gomer's forehead. Dropping into a crouch, she swept her right arm across that side of the room. Her Type I "cricket" phaser spat out a lethal particle beam.

Diving out of her crouch and rolling across the floor, Douglas landed on her feet and repeated her sweep but this time on the opposite side of the room. Two more shots took care of the guards at the other end minding the door.

Now only Gomer remained a threat. The Orion had a Class 3 disruptor in her hand. It appeared to be of Breen origin.

Douglas deftly shot it out of Gomer's hand before the Orion could even manage to aim it. Gomer rubbed her mildly burned hand.

"It seems I underestimated you," Gomer ruefully admitted, "You are Thrak's assassin, aren't you?"

"Among other things," Douglas replied, "Now about that answer?"

"You can have your precious neutrality," Gomer decided, "Is that enough to purchase my life?"

"It is," Douglas agreed.

"You really could have driven a harder bargain," Gomer smirked.

"And allow the second wave of guards catch me outside?" Douglas scoffed, "Don't insult my intelligence. Now, call them off or I will come back and kill you with my bare hands if need be."

Gomer went to where her comm badge lay on the ground. Activating it she ordered her people to stand down. Gomer eyed Douglas.

"You get to walk free, Sarina Douglas;" Gomer said haughtily.

"And you get to live another day," Douglas remarked nonchalantly.

"Too true," Gomer was feeling agreeable now.

"Don't forget, your people are welcome at our clinic as well," Douglas offered a parting invitation.

"How could I forget?" Gomer asked dryly.

* * *

The _Corsair_ had been committed to its landing approach. Ebert manned the CONN and guided the ship in. Kerber sat at OPS and kept an eye on every system. Parva occupied the Engineering station and dutifully monitored the engines and power systems. Macen utilized the sensors at the Science station. Behind them at a freestanding console, Daggit hovered near the Tactical station.

In the aft cabin, Rockford, Forte, Shade, and Lee sat around the center table. Tony Burrows sat in a chair sharpening his _katana_ sword. Mudd and Bailey Smith sat across the room each mildly evading the other's questions.

"Tracy, give me as much of a flyby over this continent as possible without being too obvious about it;" Macen requested.

The _Corsair_ had already flown over what the natives termed as the Western Hemisphere and were now well into the Eastern. They'd been directed into the Northern hemisphere. There were three continents altogether on the planet. The Western portion of the globe was inhabited solely by Remans. The third, and smallest, continent located in the Eastern Hemisphere was roughly the size of Australia. It was also completely covered by one megacity. Island chains also surrounded the continent reminiscent of Earth's Oceania territory.

The population of the megacity topped out at over 1.5 billion. Over ninety-nine percent of them were aliens to this world. There was one landing port located at the western edge of the city. The various landing pads were half empty. It seemed most who came to Safehold planned to stay for life.

Ebert sat the runabout down on the assigned pad. They were all inspected upon disembarking by a security team. The sight of weapons didn't even faze the Remans. The bureaucrat assigned to greeting them was more concerned with fund transfers than public safety.

Macen and Rockford were taken to the City Administrator's offices while the others were moved along to their prospective new corporate hub. The quad was euphemistically named Utopia Gardens but what it really was was a bombed out, gutted ruin. But the security officials were unaware that not every SID team member went out of the landing area.

Aboard the _Corsair_ Kerber and Bailey Smith diligently worked the planetary networks. Kerber had stayed at the OPS station to explore the Remans' various computer hierarchies. Smith reconfigured the Science station into an OPS platform and mirrored Kerber's progress before branching out on her own after they'd isolated the megacity's systems and covertly began taking them over.

* * *

Douglas rejoined her Section 31 agents at Paradise Havens. Douglas only had one question for Eden Smith, "How is he doing?"

Smith immediately knew "he" referred to Bashir and not Riley, "He's got Colin playing nurse for him. Colin seems to think it'll get him in the Doctor's pants. Once that delusion evaporates, he'll be a sullen brat again."

"And that shift in attitude won't sit well with Julian," Douglas warned, "Medicine is an end all be all for him."

"Then why are we trying to recruit him?" Smith wondered.

"Luther Sloan made it an agency priority. L'Haan backed his play and Director Fowler still likes the idea," Douglas explained the history, "So I was sent in."

"And you actually fell for him," Smith knew all the signs despite never having experienced them.

"Julian can be very...charming," Douglas allowed.

"And he probably has genetically enhanced sexual skills as well," Smith smirked, "Plus all those years of studying anatomy and all that."

"Combined with perfect muscle memory and endurance that just won't quit," Douglas sighed.

"Too bad you're not getting any," Smith remarked.

"Are you asking my permission to try for yourself?" Douglas wryly asked.

"Bait and switch," Smith suggested, "While he's irritated with you, I swoop in and seduce him. When I ultimately betray him, he seeks succor in your arms."

"I don't know..." Douglas wasn't comfortable with signing off on the tactic.

"Sarina, Jack Fowler gave us a directive to either bring Bashir into the fold or leave him dead in a ditch;" Smith reminded Douglas, "So what would hurt more, me screwing your boyfriend or executing him at close range?"

"You win," Douglas sighed.

Smith wore a victorious smile, "Then I'll just tell Colin to take a hike and I'll get busy showing Bashir how well I can play 'nurse'."

Douglas winced.

* * *

In the sub-basement of Utopia Gardens Parva called out, "How's this?"

She was in the maintenance pit underneath the building's fusion reactor. Daggit called back, "Everything's still dead."

Daggit was squatting before the pit cradling a rifle. Up in the living quarters area, Burrows stood vigil in the hallway while the others searched their ransacked rooms for usable equipment. With the doors frozen open the only thing keeping scavenger and raiding parties away was their knowledge that there wasn't anything usable left to take.

"How about now?" Parva asked.

The lights flickered and died so Daggit told her, "You're making progress, babe. We had lights for two whole seconds."

Parva snarled a few choice Orion oaths and Daggit could distinctly hear a clanging noise made by a heavy tool beating something solid. The lights sputtered back on and stayed on this time. Daggit shared the good news.

"You did it!" he told her.

Parva appeared in the pit's entrance and held up a hand. Like the rest of her, it was filthy; "Give me a hand."

Daggit helped pull his wife out of the long neglected pit, "That's one hurdle down."

"And a thousand left to go," Parva sighed before tapping her comm badge, "Parva to _Corsair_."

Kerber's voice came back over the circuit, _"_Corsair _here."_

"Are we patched into the city's comm grid yet?" Parva inquired.

_"Already done,"_ Kerber assured her, _"We are now tied into and operating off of their domestic comm relays and surveillance monitors. What they see and hear we do too."_

"Good work," Parva admitted. The two Ardanans never failed to impress. Of course, the entire SID team excluding Macen and Rockford thought Bailey Smith and Angelique Kerber were human, "What's our sitrep? Anyone spying on us yet?"

_"The city administrators are aware of the power being restored in your quad,"_ Kerber reported, _"They're uncertain as whether to be impressed or annoyed."_

"The hell with them," Parva retorted, "I'm already annoyed and I'd love to share that wonderful feeling."

_"I've arranged for a parts drop at your location,"_ Kerber shared, _"No repair techs will be arriving to assist but you'll have a full assortment of parts and tools as well as the replicator templates for anything a quad facility requires."_

"And how did you arrange that?" Parva mirthfully asked.

_"Bailey broke the administration's encryption protocols while you were undoubtedly tearing everything apart. We can flash official traffic now,"_ Kerber stated nonchalantly.

"Tell Bailey she just saved a few lives," Parva chuckled, "Someone will be checking in with you within the hour. Probably the Captain."

_"Looking forward to it,"_ Kerber admitted as she signed off.

"Poor kids sound bored and lonely," Daggit grinned.

"I'll trade them any day," Parva shared, "And have you noticed how Angelique, Bailey, and Tracy all gravitate towards Macen?"

"Well, Tracy was a member of his Maquis crew so that's a natural," Daggit stated.

"There's some common thread here though," Parva insisted, "Something that lumps them together."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out in time," Daggit reassured her.

"Stop trying to cheer me up," Parva mock grumped.


	4. Chapter 4

19

Rockford didn't know how Macen felt but she was about ready to shoot somebody. In fact, a whole room full of somebodies. The Remans had thrown every department manager in the megacity's administration at them and they all wanted to throw obstacles at the couple. In fact, Rockford's jaw clenched as Macen's Starfleet past was hurled back into his face yet again.

"You say you resigned from Starfleet yet you subsequently began working for them after forming your corporation," an aide droned on, "Do you deny this?"

"I haven't yet so why should I start now?" Macen cheekily replied.

"Are you being flippant with me?" the aide demanded in his umbrage.

"Extremely," Macen readily confessed.

Rockford wanted to cheer as the officious bureaucrat's face went from ashen gray to a dull purple. She finally decided to let her voice be heard too, "Are we getting anywhere near a point?"

"This brings us back to our original question: why are you here?" The City's Chief Administrator asked once again.

"We've explained the business end of the venture," Macen reminded them all, "For our direct part, we're here at Harri Mudd's behest."

"I rather doubt that," The Chief Administrator replied, "The falling out between Harcourt Fenton Mudd III and Harriet Fedora Mudd was so legendary my offices were brought into it. She left Safehold vowing never to return and that is a sentiment I agree with. Now why is she really here?"

"You have two particular guests upon your world," Macen decided to tell the truth, "One is a Dr. Bashir and that other is a Lt. Commander Sarina Douglas, both of Starfleet. They've gone rogue. My job isn't to apprehend them, as that would run counter to your basic policy that no one will involuntarily leave Safehold. Rather I'm to try and convince them to return to Starfleet or remain here as outlaws."

"So you do have a basic grasp of our fundamental tenet," The Chief Administrator was pleased, "No resident alien may be removed from Safehold without his or her consent. That is our promise to every resident and we will enforce it at all costs. But otherwise, the dealings between residents are entirely up to them. We try to interfere as rarely as possible."

"What would it take for me to establish my business credentials with you and set up shop?" Macen felt a bridge had been crossed at long last, "After all, another Outbound Ventures vessel is already on its way here."

The Chief Administrator turned to his financier who named an exorbitant sum for a fifty-year lease. And then he added a smaller annual fee. As well as a comparably miniscule percentage tax upon every contract based on Safehold itself.

Macen knew Kathy Tyrol would hate him forever but he agreed to the sums. Authorizing all of the latinum transfers, Macen asked how it was that the administration had found his group an entire quad so fast. He didn't enjoy that answer when it was explained to him Utopia Gardens had been the planetary hub for Solarian Security Systems. They'd been driven off world. Or at least the survivors had been.

* * *

Macen and Rockford were then taken to the quad after the meeting broke up. En route, the aide leading explained that somehow his team had procured parts to repair the dilapidated building and that the how of it was being looked into. Macen and Rockford merely shared a knowing look.

Mudd had thrown in with Parva. Her experience as her own shipboard engineer served her well as she assisted the engineering savant. Forte was another certified genius amongst that group and quickly picked up the engineering principles necessary to affect repairs to the various sites she was assigned to.

Daggit and Burrows stood guard while Lee and Shade tried out some basic maintenance and repairs. Mainly they just swapped out various units like replicators, sonic shower emitters, and waste and sanitation convertor coils. Ebert was put in charge of testing and adjusting the pieces of equipment as needed.

Macen and Rockford arrived to find Burrows discreetly hidden away in that main courtyard having obtained a clear field of fire. He told them of the loosely organized chaos within. Macen sought out Parva and Mudd in that sub-basement while Rockford decided to check on the troops in the living quarters areas.

Macen quickly received an assessment from Parva. The building's fusion reactor was slightly antiquated but it had been brought to life and stabilized. The quad had a defense network that had been heavily damaged but it was repairable and thanks to Kerber and Bailey Smith they had the replicator patterns to repair and rearm anything within the quad. The industrial replicator was already up and running thanks to Mudd's efforts.

"Of course the exterior and interior weapons systems are all slug throwers," Parva frowned, "I tweaked the projectile matrix a bit to make it more like rounds utilized by a Starfleet TR-116."

"Good thinking," Macen was pleased by Parva's initiative. Her genius in these types of matters had grown exponentially since she'd had her genes and neural tissues resequenced. Of course, that also meant there was a threat she could become increasingly unstable and erratic like the famed Jack Pack that Sarina Douglas had once been a part of.

"My next project for Harri and I is trying to update the EPS conduits into something a little less primitive," Parva announced.

"I'll be giving Harri some homework that you could help her out on," Macen advised Parva, "Think of it as a 'thank you' gesture."

Parva grinned, "No problem."

* * *

Macen contacted Kerber and Smith, "Angelique, Bailey, have you found Bashir yet?"

_"Negative,"_ Kerber answered for the pair of them, _"But it's a large city and there are rumors of a recently installed health clinic. Bailey and I are currently pursuing that angle since it seems a natural fit for a doctor and just opened today."_

"Definitely stay on that," Macen agreed, "As a side note, could you get me a list and description of every ship landed at the city's pads?"

_"Certainly,"_ Kerber assured him, _"Can you give us twenty minutes or more to compile the data?"_

"Just sometime tonight would be good," Macen assured her.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Macen downloaded the information from the quad's library computer. Taking his freshly loaded padd to Mudd, he asked her to look over the ships listed by it; "Keep an eye out for anything interesting."

"How interesting?" Mudd asked.

"Like something Section 31 might fly," Macen told her, "I think you'll know it when you see it."

"I hope you don't want this back today," Mudd grimaced, "Parva's working my gorgeous ass off."

"Parva already agreed to help you go through the list," Macen informed her, "So this isn't entirely on your head."

Mudd actually looked grateful, "I'm glad."

* * *

Riley finished installing the call button next to the clinic's door so Bashir could be summoned in an event of an emergency. Bashir walked the last patient out and Eden Smith trailed him. She shrugged at Douglas. Part of Douglas felt exalted by Bashir's faithfulness. But another portion of her wanted to scream over his innate stubbornness. It was going to cost him his life and there seemed to be no avoiding it.

"No luck at all?" Douglas asked as she sidled up to a weary Smith.

"In one way you should count yourself lucky. I'm very hard to resist but your boyfriend has very determinedly evaded my every suggestion or flirtation," Smith sighed.

"Pigheaded jackass," Douglas vented slightly.

"Look, Colin told me he found a new eatery to try nearby. It's about half the cost of the ones we've been sampling so far. And with our replimat down, we need to forage," Smith reminded Douglas, "And I swear most of the proprietors on this planet think it's the Ferengis' Divine Treasury with the prices they charge."

"Or at least a Reman's," Douglas tried to joke, it sounded tired even to her.

"At least the Remans don't rape you with their eyes," Smith stated, "We had a dozen Ferengi patients today and every one of them made a federal case over my being clothed."

"Well, since Grand Negus Rom made it legal for Ferengi females to wear clothes, I'm assuming most of the throwbacks left the Alliance and more than a few made it here. Probably with the Treasury Guard and FCA in hot pursuit," Douglas opined.

"Who names their military after bank guards?" Smith complained.

Douglas grinned, "The Ferengi Alliance regards itself as one large conglomeration of wealth. Therefore the term 'Treasury Guards' is apropos in their eyes."

"But it shouldn't require an explanation," Smith commiserated.

"Like Section 31 just rolls off the tongue to inspire fear and loathing?" Douglas inquired.

"Don't go there," Smith groaned, "And I think it's best that we rejoin the boys. It looks like Bashir is rejecting Colin's advances again. He only puts up with that for so long."

"And then?" Douglas asked apprehensively.

"What Colin can't conquer with words and flattery he just simply conquers," Smith informed Douglas.

"And that's why you two had a falling out?" Douglas asked.

"He wouldn't take 'no' for an answer so I hospitalized him. He was in a coma for three weeks before he came to with few memories of the event. We've avoided each other ever since."

"Until now," Douglas pointed out.

"Jack Fowler wanted this team put together with these people," Smith sighed, "You don't tell Jack 'no' either."

"Why does Jack put up with Riley?" Douglas wanted to know.

"Because he gets results, one way or another;" Smith said warily, "And Jack is all about results."

"It's best we get to dinner. Riley and Julian are about to go at each other;" Douglas observed.

Douglas swooped in and pulled Bashir away, "Tell me about your day."

Bashir shared his tales and she noted that he was truly happy for the first time since they'd left Deep Space Nine for Andoria. She hated to take that away from him. If nothing else, he'd have a brief taste of happiness before dying.

The work at Utopia Gardens ended for the night. There were still a multitude of repairs that needed doing. Most everyone was sharing rooms even the married couples. Ebert slept in Macen and Rockford's guest room. Mudd slept in Parva and Daggit's. Forte and Shade shared a room with Lee and Burrows. That constituted all of the rooms that had been successfully repaired.

* * *

Parva and Mudd went over the list of ships before retiring for the evening. They'd narrowed it down to five suspects. Having Kerber and Bailey Smith do a thorough check on the vessels' registration would yield more clues.

Earlier, Daggit and Burrows had scouted the outlying districts and found a dozen food vendors. Using the corporate coffers, they'd purchased meals for everyone. While the replicators did fine on liquids, solids seemed outside their programmed grasp just yet.

Macen and Rockford took a report from Burrows who spoke on Daggit's behalf, "Everything lined up the way Angelique and Bailey said it would. There were dozens of shopkeepers working out of apartments. They'd all been housed in this quad before Solarian was decimated. They're very interested in subleasing properties again."

"Did they reveal who drove Solarian out?" Macen asked first thing.

"An up and coming group called the Tevara Gang. They aren't quite Orion Syndicate and they aren't quite independent. But they're climbing the hierarchy of gang supremacy through raw power, force, intimidation, and wanton violence," Burrows reported, "And you couldn't help but notice that this piece of real estate is the epicenter of the megacity. That makes it the most prized location on the continent. The only reason it wasn't already occupied is the Remans demanded incredibly high contract rates to dwell here."

"Which are exorbitant enough to dissuade everyone," Rockford realized, "You do realize our presence might be the tipping point that devolves this entire scenario into an outright gang war?"

"Half our team is well versed in the arts of warfare," Macen reminded her, "We just have to carry Arianna, Shade, and Lee through. As far as the Outbound Ventures forces en route, most of them are ex-Starfleet veterans of the Dominion War. They know what they're doing."

"What about the _Guinevere_ herself?" Rockford wondered, "Because I don't think the Remans will let her into the system."

"Probably not," Macen agreed, "Only three _Lancelot_-class cruisers were ever built and although the ship may be seventy-seven years old, I think the Remans are just paranoid to block her entrance."

"Which means ferrying personnel via shuttles," Rockford pointed out.

"Because the shuttles won't register on their threat o'meter," Macen opined.

Rockford rolled her eyes, "I can't believe you just said that."

"I blame my ninety-five years of being corrupted by humanity," Macen stated, "No offense, Tony."

"No problem," Burrows replied, "I think my fellow humans and I are pretty silly bastards most of the time."

"I was 'born' to be human and I don't sound like that," Rockford complained.

"You don't know what you're missing," Burrows gibed, "I can see why Elias warned me about you two."

"Elias Vaughn warned you? About us?" Rockford was slightly insulted.

"Yes, ma'am;" Burrows grinned, "And if you want to take it up with him, feel free."

"I suppose _you_ go along with this ridiculous sentiment?" Rockford accused Macen.

"Of course," Macen nodded, "Elias would do the same by directly approaching us."

"I'm walking away before I stun you both and kick you while you're down," Rockford huffed as she strolled away.

Burrows cast a sidelong glance towards Macen, "I heard you've been married before. Once to a member of your own race and then again to a Vulcan."

"Is there a question here?" Macen wondered.

"I also have been told you and Captain Riker's wife were in a deeply committed relationship at one time," Burrows added.

"Also true," Macen confirmed it, "So I repeat my question about yours."

"What happened?" Burrows finally asked.

Macen smirked, "Why didn't you ask Elias?"

"I did," Burrows confessed, "He said to ask you."

"Good man," Macen approved of his friend's action, "My first wife, Arinae, pretended to be assimilated by the Borg. Over the decades she came to the Alpha Quadrant through alternate means and was recruited by Section 31. She'd gone insane by then and threatened the entire SID team so I killed her. She was actually grateful when I did so."

Burrows was visibly shaken, "And the Vulcan?"

"T'Kir and I met in the Maquis," Macen shared, "After the Dominion War ended I recruited her to my fledgling SID team. Eventually we married and in another eventuality Bertram Sindis killed her."

Seeing Burrows' look of relief, Macen decided to burst his bubble, "But Tessa had cloned T'Kir's body and I held her essence in my head. We reconnected the two and she left for Vulcan. While there she fixated on Celeste and I's deaths and she too joined Section 31. Celeste personally killed T'Kir the second time around."

"I can see why there's bad blood between you and Section 31," Burrows ventured.

"No, you really can't;" Macen countered, "Ask Daggit about Hannah Grace some time."

"Don't tell me Lisea Danan ever joined Section 31," Burrows pleaded.

"I won't because she didn't," Macen assured him.

"So what happened with her? Why did she marry Tom Riker?" Burrows asked.

"Because Tom is a very special and very lucky man," Macen stated.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" Burrows realized.

"Ask her," Macen encouraged him.

"I may just do that," Burrows decided.

"If you do, keep it to yourself afterwards," Macen requested.

* * *

"This seat taken?" Rockford asked Mudd at the courtyard tables.

"Does it look like it?" Mudd asked sardonically given that only Daggit and Parva sat in proximity to Mudd but they were lost in each other.

"It's not like you're trying to fit in, Harri;" Rockford accused.

Ebert suddenly approached their table, "Can I join you?"

"Why would you want to?" Mudd asked acerbically.

"Harri!" Rockford growled.

"It's no problem, Ms. Rockford;" Ebert replied with a shrug.

"It's Celeste to you, Tracy;" Rockford assured her, "Please take a seat."

"I think she should answer the damn question," Mudd obstinately dug in.

"Because I spent most of my life on the other side of the law even before I joined the Maquis," Ebert divulged, "My family owned freighter was a smuggling vessel. And only the Captain ever gave me a chance to do anything that meant anything. Twice he's asked for my help and twice I said 'yes' without regretting it."

"'Yet' being the operative word," Mudd grumped.

Ebert shrugged, "Look, I can eat by myself. I'm used to that too."

"Wait!" Mudd ordered, "Sit down before I start bawling."

"Thank you, Captain Mudd;" Ebert beamed.

"Oh, hell no;" Mudd exclaimed, "There's obviously only one 'Captain' for you. Just call me 'Harri'. And if that doesn't rock your world, call me 'Mudd' like most everyone else."

"Thank you, Harri;" Ebert said slowly, "I understand you own and operate a Bajoran variant _Antares_-class freighter with the warp core and warp nacelles from an _Andor_-class transport melded in. I have experience with both ship types and am wondering how the crossover is working."

"I'm beginning to like you already," Mudd decided.

"And afterwards, if you could, tell me how you pulled off the Rostelian Heist on Deneva Prime;" Ebert requested.

Mudd wore a Cheshire grin, "I _definitely_ like you already."

* * *

Douglas' comm badge sounded so she tapped it, "Douglas here."

_"We have company,"_ Riley explained from the control center, _"Very well armed company."_

"I see," Douglas pondered the matter, "Are the disruptor gun pods working?"

_"Yes, Yar seemed to know what she was doing when she installed our network,"_ Riley had admiration in his voice.

"She should," Douglas told him, "The Coalition forces on Turkana IV relied heavily on these types of systems for perimeter defense."

_"Should I fire a few warning shots just to let them know we mean business?"_ Riley asked.

"No, but if I tap my comm badge twice take out the muscle;" Douglas requested.

_"You got it,"_ Riley sounded happier than he had in a while.

Douglas exited her quarters to find Bashir doing the same. Surmising the worst, she asked him; "Where are you headed?"

"Someone paged me from the clinic," Bashir said with a note of concern, "Could you page Eden? I can't seem to reach her."

"She's probably already aware of the situation," Douglas consoled him knowing Riley would have contacted Smith as well as herself.

"Good," Bashir brightened.

Douglas wondered just how Bashir would react to the crowd actually awaiting them.

"This is an outrage!" Bashir thundered at a rather dapper Nalorian, "If you people aren't actually injured then get the hell away from my clinic!"

"_Your_ clinic? I don't think so," the Nalorian smoothly rebutted Bashir's claim, "This quad and everything in it belongs to my employer. That includes _you_."

"What is it you want?" Douglas inserted herself into the scenario.

"As our Iotian friends succinctly put it, my employer wants a piece of the action;" the Nalorian's white teeth shown like a light against his flint-like skin.

"What action?" Bashir wondered.

"The fees you're charging your patients," the Nalorian explained, "My employer wants a ten percent cut."

"There aren't any fees," Bashir asserted, "This is a _free_ clinic providing health care to any and all patients."

"You're joking," the Nalorian didn't buy into it yet.

"I wish he was," Douglas said wearily. She was still wondering how she would justify Bashir's charity work to her superiors.

"You're the _only_ trained physician in this city and you're simply handing your services away for free?" the Nalorian scoffed, "Well, not anymore."

"What do you mean?" Bashir was growing angrier by the second.

"What I mean, Doctor, is that you and I are going to sit down and arrange a list of service fees," the Nalorian decided, "And if you even think about protesting I recommend you look at the fact that there twenty of us against two of you. That's twenty weapons versus yours and I do believe you're not even armed, Doctor."

"What's your name?" Douglas suddenly asked.

"Tav Solan," the Nalorian answered, "Why?"

"You said you're a minion," Douglas continued as though he'd never asked the question, "I spoke to another mouthpiece several days ago who agreed to our neutral status. Do you actually have the authority to overwrite his decision?"

"I may be a minion but I am a _highly_ placed one. The fool who made promises before consulting with his betters has been terminated for his arrogance. Now you are dealing directly with me and I speak for Tevara," Solan iterated.

"Then you are high on the echelon to personally explain to Tevara how you got nineteen of his men killed today and you can also pass along a simple message," Douglas spoke.

Solan chuckled, "And what is that?"

"Go to hell," Douglas double tapped her comm badge. Blisters emerged from hidden ports all around the courtyard and their disruptor bolts killed Solan's men while leaving him very much alive.

"Aren't you a little strumpet?" Solan calmly asked while keeping his hand clear of his holster.

Smith came out of her hiding spot carrying a compressed phaser rifle, "Want me to finish this one off?"

"No, he's a mouthpiece so let him speak for us to Tevara," Douglas decided, "Tell your boss he doesn't want to start a war with us. He won't survive it."

"I will," Solan promised, "And I'm certain he'll give you to me to be my plaything after we've killed the rest of your lot. Just be warned, I tend to _break_ my playthings."

"I'm quaking already," Douglas dryly retorted.

"You should be," Solan said smugly and then he departed.

"He's going to be trouble," Douglas predicted.

"Too true," Smith agreed, "But you have to wonder how he breaks people down."

Douglas and Bashir just looked at her as though she were crazy.

* * *

The following morning Kerber contacted Macen, _"You wanted to follow the violent skirmishes across the city. There were several last night but only one was of note."_

"And that was?" Macen wondered.

_"A recently reoccupied quad called Paradise Havens had just opened the medical clinic. It seems one of the local gang bosses sent a group in to collect a cut of the clinic's fees,"_ Kerber explained, _"Only the physician is treating patients for gratis and a skirmish broke out with nineteen casualties reported. All on the gang's side. Which is fairly impressive given that Paradise Havens only lists four occupants."_

"Any visuals on the occupants?" Macen inquired.

_"None as of yet,"_ Kerber sounded disappointed, _"They took their central computer off of the city's network so we haven't found a backdoor yet."_

"Keep at it but I think you found our quarry," Macen congratulated the cyber team, "Let Bailey know thanks go to her as well as you."

_"Will do. Kerber out,"_ she signed off at that point.

Macen decided to grab some scouts and take a look around Paradise Havens.

* * *

The SID team fanned out around Paradise Havens in three groups. Shade and Lee took one approach while Burrows accompanied Forte on another. Macen and Rockford had dragged Mudd along with them.

Shade and Lee talked to merchants and shoppers along the way. They learned that not every resident was a wanted criminal. There were those that had simply been born on Safehold owing to their parents' hiding there. Many of the vendors came from nearby star systems that had attempted to forge new businesses in an entrepreneurial spirit. Most also regretted that decision now but the Remans wouldn't allow them to leave.

* * *

In turn, Forte interviewed many of those coming to and from Paradise Havens. They were mainly potential patients that had heard about the clinic. They came from across the city. Their only options before this were half trained, or completely untrained, medical practitioners with homemade equipment and pharmaceuticals.

Burrows watched over his young charges safety all the while spotting out a gathering number of armed gang members. Burrows knew trouble when he saw it and so did the residents. But many pressed ahead to the clinic regardless of the brewing danger.

* * *

Macen and Rockford gathered much of the same information as they approached Paradise Havens' main entrance. Mudd had gone along with their activity with a modicum of complaints. Now as they neared a large group of armed aliens she swore.

"What is it?" Rockford was concerned by Mudd's sudden agitation.

"My father is helping lead this lot," Mudd hissed, "We have a lot of bad blood between us. He swore he'd kill me if he ever saw me again."

"Yup, I see him;" Macen told her.

"You know my father by sight?" Mudd was surprised.

"Harry the Third was a chief smuggler supplying the Maquis back in the day," Macen informed her, "He also helped with a few more _delicate_ operations before he was picked up by the Starfleet Border Patrol."

"The hell you say," Mudd didn't believe a word of it.

"He avoided being sent to a penal colony by turning state's evidence and fingering his suppliers," Macen recalled.

"Now _that_ I believe," Mudd conceded.

"Harry the Third had weaseled out the names of several Maquis still in Starfleet in various drinking contests," Macen elaborated.

"Hah! My father can drink an android under the table," Mudd laughed.

"So we learned," Macen was slightly more reflective, "The last time I saw him, Harry Mudd III had parlayed this knowledge into a free ride out of the Federation. Last time I saw him he was beyond Talarian space."

"Waitaminute!" Mudd yelped, "_You_ were his ride?"

"That's the short version of the story," Macen shared.

"The hell with this," Mudd squared her shoulders, "Try and keep up."

Mudd approached Mudd III, "Hi Pops, how's it hanging?"

"What in the name of the Seven Devils are you doing here, Sweet-Tart?" Mudd III asked incredulously.

"Did I just hear you correctly?" Rockford asked with great amusement.

"You did," Mudd III bragged, "My little girl has always been a little sweet but mostly tart."

Mudd glared at Rockford, "If you _ever_ call me that I will hand you your ass, Angosian or no Angosian."

Mudd III eyeballed Macen, "What brings you here?"

"I have business with the doctor," Macen said evenly.

"You know, Macen, I should probably have you gunned down. You put my boy away," Mudd III griped.

"Your son is an idiot," Macen retorted, "He literally fell into my lap and thought because he resembles his mother I wouldn't recognize him or recall all the warrants out for him. And to compound his stupidity, he broke out of my brig, blinded me, and stole my runabout. And _then_ he tried to cut a deal after I tracked him down to where he was trying to illegally sell my runabout."

Mudd III sighed, "You're right. He was never that bright."

"Yet he was the apple of your eye," Mudd scornfully remarked.

"This isn't the place, Harriet;" Mudd III warned.

"And why isn't it, Pops?" Mudd caustically inquired.

"Because Harry the Third here is trying to figure out how to get inside Paradise Havens without getting killed and then executing the current occupants," Macen said to her.

"Well, have fun with that;" Mudd chortled.

"You think this is a funny business?" Mudd III was instantly angered by his daughter's flippant attitude.

"Not at all," Mudd assured him, "I just know who these people work for and I know as soon as you try anything, you're a dead man. So I'll just say my goodbyes right here and now."

"She's right, Harry;" Macen declared, "You don't stand a chance."

Mudd III weighed his options, "Whatever happened to that Vulcan mind witch that hung all over you? You finally trade up?"

"She died," Rockford said with equanimity, "Twice."

"How did she do that?" Mudd III had to ask.

"First Bertram Sindis killed her. She was resurrected and then I killed her," Rockford explained.

"You lot brought Sindis down?" Mudd III yelped.

"We had help," Macen said quietly.

"And what Harriet is saying is these people inside are...?" Mudd III faltered.

"Just as dangerous and determined," Mudd asserted.

"Look, go on in and take your time;" Mudd III suddenly allowed, "I have to contact the boss anyway."

"You're too kind, Pops;" Mudd quipped.

* * *

As the trio proceeded towards Paradise Havens' entrance Mudd erupted, "What a blowhard!"

"I understand you felt slighted by your father but what turned you two against one another?" Rockford wanted to know.

"In order to try and save my brother my father sold me out," Mudd explained.

"Had you done whatever he was accusing you of?" Rockford pressed.

Mudd bitterly laughed, "For once, no. And also for once, the prosecutors weren't so lazy as to try and pin it on me."

"Maybe your father realized that," Rockford couldn't believe she was suddenly sticking up for Mudd III.

"The only thing my _beloved_ father cared about is that my brother got away," Mudd incredulously insisted.

"I agree," Macen confided.

"Why the hell are you suddenly riding in to my rescue anyway?" Mudd demanded to know.

"My people are called 'Listeners' for a reason," Macen explained, "Everything I've seen and heard said Harry the Third was ready to throw you under the train just for being on this world again. I may not agree with every aspect of your life choices but you're part of the extended family now. Which means I'll do my best to help you against threats like your father."

Mudd stopped in mid-stride. Rockford and Macen were a little slower to react.

"You're serious," Mudd realized, "You _both_ feel this way?"

"Of course," Rockford assured her.

"I'll be damned," Mudd breathed, "I don't know what to say."

"Well, you don't _have_ to say anything but actually saying _something_ once in a while wouldn't hurt," Rockford smiled.

"But why me?" Mudd had to know.

"You remind me of myself when I was younger," Rockford confessed, "And in turn that kind of makes you the ersatz sister I never had before. I saw a spark of greatness in you when we rescued Nan Bacco. Despite how that later turned out I got to see more of you in action and I think you can blossom into a terrifyingly awesome person."

"And you?" Mudd asked Macen.

"Celeste recognized it first but I agree with her now," Macen told her, "So we kept you on the payroll."

"I'm not a hero," Mudd warned them, "No matter what anyone might think."

"Neither are we," Rockford assured her, "We just get the job done and move on to the next one. Just like you."

"This is way too weird," Mudd complained.

"Look, all you have to do right now is either enter this courtyard on the other side of the that raised blast door or go back to Utopia Gardens and help Parva and Tracy out," Macen offered.

"That'll be the day," Mudd snorted, "I'd rather take a chance on getting my ass shot off than bore my but back at that dilapidated quad."

"Then let's get it done," Rockford urged.

* * *

The SID converged Paradise Havens' courtyard. Ensconced in the control room, Riley carefully monitored the actions and presence of the armed men and women. He cursed the fact that Yar hadn't had time to install audio monitors. Because it was plain to see that the SID team was engaged in a debrief of their encounters coming to Paradise Havens.

"So it seems there are actually four gangs now with the demise of the leader of the Acamarian led Delters Gang," Macen realized, "So let's break it down. The Eldebara Gang is led by an Orion gangster named Tantz. Tantz in turn is run by an Orion woman named Gomer. The Eldebara's were the movers and shakers until the fall of the Delters."

Macen continued his summary, "Then there's the Doreb Gang, founded by an Iotian but now led by a Ferengi named Trob. Rumors persist that Doreb is still alive but there's no conclusive evidence to support that supposition."

"The Kundark Gang is led by a Nausicaan of the same name. They're essentially overmuscled thugs with a taste for power achieved through intimidation," Macen summed up that group.

"Typical Nausicaan thinking," Burrows opined.

"And now comes the fast rising up and comers," Macen mused, "The Tevara Gang is the newest on the planet and now the largest. Our good friend Harry Mudd III works for Tevara among unknown others."

All eyes fell on Mudd. She grew defensive, "What?"

"Harri can't help who her father works for," Macen reminded the group, "Now Tevara has never been seen. He or she arrived in an armored vehicle offloaded from a transport and taken to his or her quad straightaway. A Nalorian had arrived with Tevara and served as his or her lieutenant. The story goes that Solan recruited a lens crafter to make special visors for Tevara's guards. This in turn implied to some that Tevara was a reclusive Medusan."

Macen could see the blank looks on half of his team's faces, "Medusans are noncorporeal beings specializing in spatial navigation. But their appearance drives most humanoids insane. No one quite understands how Medusans process information so Tevara could potentially monitor everything on Safehold and its surrounding space without the aid of external monitoring devices."

"The locals reported an incident here yesterday," Forte spoke up again, "A Nalorian led a group into the quad and only he left alive."

"Angelique reported that before we set out today. That's why I'm guessing Harry the Third works for Tevara. Tevara has the most to lose by leaving the Section 31 group unpunished," Macen shared.

"Pops would get on the wrong end of this fight," Mudd groaned, "It was always his way."

Macen gave Mudd a pained look and she threw a glare his way, "Oh, come off it! You and your Maquis buddies did lose in a spectacular fashion."

Rockford snickered, "You have just spat on holy ground."

"Excuse me all to death but you have to admit that the Jem'Hadar royally handed you Maquis your collective asses. You're just lucky to be alive at all," Mudd ventured further.

"I won't debate how the movement ended but that never meant we weren't solidly in the right," Macen argued.

"Except to the rest of the rational universe," Mudd shot back.

Rockford interposed herself between the two verbal opponents, "Peace and harmony everyone. Let's not slay everyone's sacred cows all in one afternoon."

Rockford turned to Forte and the others, "Did any of the locals mention Bashir by name?"

"Oh yeah," Forte said heavily, "Most of them have a severe case of hero worship."

"And the rest are already eulogizing him," Shade put in, "Most the locals respect Bashir's willingness to stand up against the Tevara Gang but many more think he just should've taken whatever deal they were offering."

"Which the other gangs know Bashir and the agents with him stymied Tevara's plans and that is why they're gathering here as well. It's pretty much a photon charge waiting to annihilate at this point," Lee stated, "Douglas was smart when she offered Paradise Havens' clinic up as neutral ground. But the Tevara's went against that and tried to claim sole possession. That's pushed the others closer to forming an effective alliance than any other single event on the planet."

"But they're still not a united front," Macen surmised.

"I think most of them would rather wade into random disruptor fire than work together," Lee guessed.

"This is going to be a long day," Macen sighed.

* * *

As the SID approached the clinic a disruptor bolt discharged near them. Burrows snapped his rifle up and honed in on the gun pod. Pods appeared all across the courtyard as the milling crowd fled. Rockford pushed Burrows' rifle barrel down towards the ground.

"Ease off, Tony. The area is saturated with them," she advised.

"I see your point," Burrows relented.

Macen pulled his phaser out of its holster and handed it to Lee, "Hold onto this." Rockford did the same with Shade and they entered the clinic. The waiting area was full of bodies. A fairly sensual woman entered the area and smirked.

"Well, you certainly don't look mortally wounded or ill;" she gibed.

"Agent whatever-your-name-is, I need to talk to Bashir. Call Sarina Douglas whenever you want and she can rudely interrupt," Macen demanded.

Eden Smith grinned, "I'll tell the doctor you're here."

Smith called out a number and escorted the fresh patient to Bashir. Presumably she also spirited off to confer with Douglas.

"And now we're waiting for Douglas to arrive," Rockford ventured.

"It should be an interesting confab," Macen agreed.

Smith chose that moment to reappear, "I'm afraid the doctor doesn't have time to see you today. Please return when you have a medical emergency."

Rockford exploded into action faster than Smith could react. She slammed Smith bodily into a wall, pinned her arm behind her back and her face against the wall. Kicking Smith's feet wide apart so she'd lose balance if he tried to leverage off of one leg or the other, Rockford turned to Macen.

"Go," she simply said.

Smith kept struggling but found that fighting Rockford was like trying to bend a duranium beam with her bare hands. She simply folded one leg and fell to the ground. But unexpectedly, Rockford dropped into a crouch behind her. Now Smith found herself pinned into the base boards with her prone body pinioned against the wall and floor by Rockford's hands and knees.


	5. Chapter 5

9

Macen ventured further into the clinic and heard two voices. One was confident and authoritative and the other was less so. Macen recognized Bashir's voice as the confident one.

Macen burst into the examination room and Bashir was immediately upset, "How dare you? Get out of here! I'm treating this patient."

"I'll be right outside," Macen conceded, "And we need to talk before Sarina Douglas can interfere."

"Now see here..." Bashir took umbrage over the perceived slight of Douglas' character.

"Doctor, honestly ask yourself what your long term goals are and if survival is amongst them," Macen suggested before stepping out.

* * *

Douglas arrived at the clinic. She hadn't recognized any of the members of Macen's SID team. _If_ they were even members of the team. Harri Mudd was present but she didn't affiliate with agencies like Starfleet's Special Investigations Division. Yet Douglas had seen all of them congregating around Macen and Rockford so something was afoot.

* * *

"Very well, Captain. What do you have to say?" Bashir brusquely asked Macen between patients.

"If you play this through you'll either leave Safehold a Section 31 agent or you'll be dead and left behind," Macen told him.

"You think I don't already know that?" Bashir asked bitterly.

"To be honest, I wasn't certain;" Macen admitted, "You're besotted with Sarina Douglas and have a major blind spot regarding her. She _will_ kill you if ordered to and think it's a kindness to do so."

"I agree," Bashir said sadly.

"What cleared the cloud in your judgment of her?" Macen asked.

"Prison clears away a lot of delusions and frees the mind to concepts you'd otherwise find abhorrent," Bashir sighed.

"I know, I was sent to a penal colony on a murder charge;" Macen confided, "I was only there for two years but it gave me plenty of time to reflect."

"You?" Bashir was astounded, "I thought Starfleet Command protected you at all costs."

"I was released on a technicality," Macen shared, "The man I killed wasn't who anyone thought he was. He was a clone convinced that he was Bertram Sindis. Also, the evidence had been tampered with to hide that revelation. In the end, the Starfleet JAG Corps felt it was easier to wash their hands of the matter than pursue a capital charge for the clone's death."

"What does this mean to me?" Bashir asked.

"I told you that because you can have your life back if you choose it," Macen stated.

"How?" Bashir was as skeptical as he was intrigued.

"Come with me to Deep Space Nine," Macen urged, "Captain Ro has fought for your reinstatement and has won a major foothold on your behalf. You'll be returned to your post as Chief Medical Officer but you'll also be under scrutiny from Starfleet Internal Affairs and Starfleet Intelligence. A small price, don't you think?"

"Surely I was court martialled in absentia and found guilty?" Bashir had to wonder despite the embers of hope being fanned within him and Douglas' reassurances.

"Apparently Starfleet overlooked that procedural motion," Macen informed Bashir, "Ro convinced Admiral Noyce of Starfleet Security, Admiral Nechayev of Starfleet Intelligence, Admiral Cataan of the JAG Corps, and Admiral Neusx of Starfleet Internal Affairs to suspend any criminal actions against you until after the findings of the Andorian Imperial Court were known."

"The Directors of each department?" Bashir was impressed, "Ro certainly went to great lengths."

"You'll probably never have any idea," Macen assured him, "But my original question stands. Do you want to return to Deep Space Nine?"

"Of course!" Bashir quickly enthused, "But how do I simply walk out of here?"

"We begin by calling my support team," Macen said simply as he went to tap the comm badge on his belt.

* * *

"Let Agent Smith go, Detective Rockford;" Douglas grated as she came upon the scene.

Rockford had hoisted Smith back onto her feet and now she interposed Smith between herself and Douglas. Douglas shook her head, "A human shield? Really? In this day and age?"

"I'm betting you're willing to kill her to get at me," Rockford revealed, "I'm also just wondering how your fellow agents will respond to you afterwards. Besides you didn't mind when it was Bashir running interference for your escape."

"Are you saying you wouldn't want to be saved by the man you love?" Douglas scoffed.

"No, I'm just saying at least I'm no longer willing to kill the man I love when ordered or hired to," Rockford retorted.

Douglas surged forward and gripped Smith's nerve cluster between her neck and shoulder. The Section 31 agent crumpled to the floor. If Rockford was impressed by a human perfectly executing a Vulcan nerve pinch, she didn't show it. Instead she punched Douglas in the nose.

Douglas shook off the blow without staunching the blood flow and snapped off her own response. Rockford just backpedaled and forced Douglas to traverse Smith's fallen form. Douglas pulled free her Type I phaser as she did so.

Rockford clamped onto Douglas' wrist and bent it inward. Douglas gasped in pain as Rockford locked Douglas' elbow and then twisted her shoulder so hard it almost came out of its socket. Rockford slammed the palm of her free hand into Douglas' elbow and Douglas cried out as he elbow snapped.

Rockford then kicked Douglas back so that she stumbled over Smith. Rockford deftly scooped up Douglas' phaser and quickly stunned the glaring Section 31 agent. She then tracked her husband down.

"We need to go if we're leaving," she insisted.

"Now's the time to commit, Doctor;" Macen warned Bashir.

"The hell with this," Bashir decided, "I'm coming with you."

Kerber had walked Macen through of how to access the underground service tunnels. Bailey Smith was pulling the SID team out of Paradise Havens' courtyard. After slogging a kilometer underground, Macen and his party exited the tunnels and rendezvoused with the SID team.

Mudd spotted her father following the team. He saw Bashir and immediately began shouting into his comm badge. Mudd swore she'd kill him.

"We don't have time, Harri;" Rockford counseled her.

* * *

The SID team hurried across several blocks before boarding one of the city's elevated mag-lev trains. This one cut through the heart of the city where Utopia Gardens was located. The team withdrew into Utopia Gardens and Parva got the blast doors and shutters closed before the Tevara Gang could catch up with them.

"Looks like the Nalorian you told us about is leading these idiots," Parva fumed as Macen and Rockford joined her in the auxiliary control center located in the sub-basement.

"And everyone else is joining them," Daggit observed, "Any chance we could get Angelique and Bailey to fly the _Corsair_ to the roof and extract us?"

"Way beyond their skill set," Macen informed the couple, "We'd need to get Tracy out to them."

Ebert's ears perked up from her place at a monitor station. Mudd suddenly interjected, "Even better, you send Tracy and I both to the runabout pads."

"You probably wouldn't be able to utilize the trains so you'd have to navigate through a hostile environment," Macen still couldn't believe Mudd was volunteering.

"I know several back routes that will save us time," Mudd promised, "I used them the last time I was here. It will take us two days tops."

"Okay, but Tony goes with the pair of you;" Macen decided.

"He'll just be in the way," Mudd dismissed the idea.

"He'd probably say the same about you," Macen mused.

"Whatever," Mudd said flippantly, "Could you get us out through those same tunnels you used to escape Paradise Havens?"

"Angelique is hacked into the system," Macen told her, "She'll get you in, guide you through, and get you out."

"Great," Mudd turned towards Ebert, "Ready to stretch your legs?"

"Beats just sitting here," Ebert grinned.

"Let me grab Tony," Macen requested.

* * *

Back at Paradise Havens, Eden Smith had set Douglas' broken elbow and was fusing it back together. Smith then slipped Douglas' arm through a sleeve cast and immobilized the joint. Douglas scowled.

"How long will this last?" she inquired snappishly.

"The bone will stay soft for another twenty-four hours. Afterwards it'll be just as strong as before the fracture," Smith answered, "But I'm betting you'll barely give it twelve hours."

"Sarina, Tom Fowler is on line for you;" Riley said from the examination room's entrance.

Douglas swore as she headed out to the waiting room's reception desk. A portable subspace transmitter had been brought in. Riley followed Douglas.

"My guess is that the plug has been pulled," Riley ventured.

"I'd say you're probably right," Douglas grimaced, "Just make sure you and Eden stay out of sight."

Douglas saw Tom Fowler's stern visage. Douglas couldn't recall a single instance where she'd seen the man ever smile. Seeing as how Fowler was just a few years older than her, she idly wondered if her expression would soon mirror his.

"Deputy Director, what a pleasant surprise;" Douglas bluffed.

"Skip the bullshit, Senior Agent Douglas;" Fowler said tersely, "Your mission is done. Is Bashir ready to commit?"

"Unfortunately not," Douglas admitted, "And even more unfortunately he isn't even present with us anymore."

"You opted to terminate him?" Fowler brightened.

"He left our custody in the company of Brin Macen," Douglas said gingerly.

Fowler's temper flared even more, "So you're saying he's essentially with Starfleet again. You assured me that wasn't an option for him anymore."

"Macen isn't Starfleet," Douglas feebly protested, "He's an independent contractor."

"Spare me the hypocrisy," Flower demanded, "Despite Starfleet's press, Macen is an active agent of the SID. Which means he _works_ for Starfleet. So I really don't see the point of splitting hairs. What I see is a compelling reason to shut down a potential leak regarding our means, methods, and agents."

"Sir, I can..." Douglas began.

"You can terminate him yourself to prove your ongoing loyalty to this agency," Fowler insisted, "And if you prove unable, have Riley or Smith do it."

"I prefer doing it myself," Douglas admitted.

"Good answer," Fowler accepted her proposal, "Because otherwise Smith and Riley's secondary target would be you."

Douglas numbly nodded.

* * *

Daggit and Burrows worked with Macen to cobble together a workable defense. Kerber would coordinate everything surrounding Utopia Gardens. Bailey Smith would be handed oversight responsibility over Burrows and his two charges.

Burrows, Mudd, and Ebert were hovering over the access port to the underground maintenance tunnels. The hatch popped open and they began their descent. Smith guided the trio through a labyrinth of tunnels. Even if the Tevara Gang wanted to utilize the tunnels, Kerber had utilized Smith's encryption to seal the tunnel assesses to everyone the Ardanans wanted to exclude.

Burrows came out of the tunnel several kilometers away with his rifle drawn. He motioned for Mudd and Ebert to climb and get under cover of shadow. Smith had doused the street lamps so the gloom was particularly stygian.

They'd only traveled a few blocks before they found an intersection blocked by four armed beings. Burrows handed his rifle off to Mudd. Then he drew his _katana_. The four humanoids died well before they ever realized what was attacking them.

Ebert and Mudd gathered up phaser rifles and followed Burrows as he proceeded down another dark alley. At every intersection, Mudd would explain where they were turning to or proceeding straightaway before Burrows would lead them out into the open. Skirting train stations they came to realize every stop was being guarded by armed gang members.

A second encounter with a seemingly randomly placed gang unit left Mudd speechless, "Seriously, I don't know whether to be impressed or pee my pants."

"Try both," Burrows said flatly.

"You'll want this," Mudd handed him his rifle.

"What?" Burrows mocked her, "You're not a bad ass with a rifle?"

Mudd aimed her own captured weapon at Burrows, "Care to find out?"

Burrows swatted her rifle out of her hands and then had his own aimed between Mudd's eyes, "I don't need to."

"People," Ebert interjected, "Either just do it here in the street and relieve all of this sexual frustration or get back to the job at hand."

"Right," Burrows proceeded down Mudd's recommended path.

"He should've gone for the sex," Mudd mildly complained, "I would've eaten him alive."

"He probably already knows that," Ebert voiced.

They neared another train station and it was heavily guarded. Suddenly an echoing explosion ripped through the air. Flames could be seen coating one face of the Utopia Gardens quad.

Ebert started back and Mudd held her arm tightly, "Oh no! You're the reason we're out here. They're big boys and girls. They'll take care of themselves."

"You're right," Ebert said rather reasonably, "We have a job to do."

Mudd suddenly realized Ebert wasn't calm. She was just totally numb. Rockford had clued Mudd into Ebert's past inside what had become the Demilitarized Zone. Now her home colony was officially Cardassian territory. Ebert was just finally putting her life back together and major reasons for doing so might have just died.

_Life sucks and then you die a horrible, lingering death,_ Mudd mused to herself.

* * *

The building still shook as Macen called Parva, "Parva, I need a sitrep."

_"We have dozens of burned out systems but nothing vital has been hit yet,"_ the engineer reported.

"Have you sealed the blast shutters?" Macen inquired.

_"On every section except the north face,"_ Parva told him, _"And the fires there are spreading into the interior. I suggest you evacuate before they start peppering that side."_

Macen and Rockford abandoned the primary control center. As they headed down the corridor the walls behind them exploded. The concussive wave of the blast hurled them down the hallway into the balcony wall separating the living spaces from the quad's hollow core with the courtyard lying far below.

"I think we pissed them off," Rockford commented through the ringing in her own ears.

Macen got to his feet rather unsteadily and gave Rockford a hand up. They cleared the northern section of the quad and Macen commed Parva, "We're clear of the north side. Drop the fire doors in every section and we'll use the lift to join you in the sub-basement."

_"I'd have to seal the doors anyway. The fire suppression system is blown," _Parva revealed.

"You're certain the access tunnels are blocked off in case they crack Angelique and Bailey's encryption?" Macen asked as he and Rockford entered the lift and began their descent.

Parva sounded insulted when she replied, _"It'll take an antimatter detonation or a nuclear device to blow those lid caps off and lift the freight containers we placed on top of them."_

"Thank you, Parva;" Macen signed off from her and contacted Kerber, "Angelique, can you feed the auxiliary control center all the satellite data you're receiving?"

_"Certainly but Bailey insists that I ask if you lost anyone,"_ Kerber told him, _"The excursion team is rather anxious."_

Macen looked over at Rockford and they both knew Ebert was the one doing the most fretting, "Tell Bailey to pass the word that we're all fine. And to especially tell Tracy that Celeste and I are all right."

_"Will do,"_ Kerber went silent and then suddenly her voice reappeared, _"It appears the motivational crisis is over."_

"We'll need regular updates on the goings on outside," Macen alerted Kerber.

_"Three other factions have engaged the group that bombarded you. They don't seem to be organized in any fashion rather they just appear to be opportunists trying to pick the bones clean,"_ Kerber offered.

"Good guess," Macen praised her, "Let me know how the fighting turns out."

_"Of course,"_ Kerber sounded rather chipper about the prospect.

"Macen out," he said as he terminated the connection for now.

"She's certainly warming up to her role," Rockford dryly commented.

"This is the type of role she and Bailey performed while working inside the Ardanan terror groups," Macen reminded her, "It's why I brought them into the fold. We needed support assets like this."

"Any ETA on the _Guinevere_?" Rockford asked.

"Twelve to twenty-four hours assuming the Remans don't hold Captain Gardner off," Macen shared.

"And until they get here we're locked in a basement with every cutthroat on the planet out to kill us," Rockford wryly remarked, "Just great."

Despite her obvious grumbling, Macen could see in Rockford's eyes that a part of her was actually looking forward to the upcoming confrontation. Which he understood. He also felt that way.


	6. Chapter 6

17

"I need to take a break," Ebert suddenly said as they reached yet another intersection, "We've been walking for hours."

"Only ten," Burrows replied snappishly.

"Lay off her," Mudd snapped, "I'm totally with her on this. We need water. Food wouldn't hurt but water is a must. We're going to run out of our reserves before we even get close to the landing pads at this rate."

"You both need to start an intensive calisthenics regime and an aerobics program after this," Burrows declared.

"Look dumbass, you already know Tracy is a participant in both. And I get more than my share of exercise, so either shoot us now and put us out of our misery or find someplace where we can get nourishment;" Mudd demanded.

Burrows disappeared into the night. A while later he returned, "Follow me."

Mudd was delighted when he led them to a pub. There were no mandatory closing hours on Safehold so eating and drinking went on all day and night. Mudd knew diuretics and alcohol were off limits but Burrows also decided synthehol was to be avoided at all costs to.

Ebert and Mudd relieved themselves and then ordered up at the bar. Ebert and Mudd devoured their meals but Burrows spent more time discreetly observing their fellow patrons. Finally, Ebert and Mudd split up the rest of Burrows' meal. Ordering several bottles of fruit juices and water, Ebert and Mudd put them in their packs. Burrows abstained.

"Look pal, I'm not sharing so you'd best get your own supplies;" Mudd warned him.

"I'll be fine," he said tersely.

Ebert stifled a laugh as Mudd made faces behind Burrows' back. But both women were startled when he pulled then aside after exiting the pub. He drew his _katana_ and stood poised. As the door opened, Burrows thrust his sword back through a man's chest. Then Burrows swung around and shot the man's female companion in the face.

"Don't try and follow us," Burrows sternly advised the pub's customers.

As the SID trio departed, Burrows contacted Bailey Smith and had her kill _all_ the lights in the power grid section that they were in. Cries of surprise and protests were heard throughout the area as the trio spirited through the darkened neighborhoods.

* * *

At the edge of Safehold's solar system, the _Guinevere_ had arrived and Captain Gardner was currently estimating her chances of survival if she launched photon torpedoes at the lead Reman ship, "We're here to deliver an Outbound Ventures security and administration force to your planet. I was told the arrangements had been made. Why then am I being held at the outer edge of the solar system?"

"Captain Macen is engaged in a gang war at this moment. Your arrival could tip the balance of powers. While the intercity affairs of our resident aliens aren't my people's concern, the disruption of the order we have established amongst our alien clients and our own settlements could disrupt the balance of power on our world and lead to a conflict beyond your reckoning," the same Reman Commander informed her.

"I seriously doubt that," Gardner replied, "I've seen wars and devastation that affected trillions of lives and hundreds of planets."

"Then you can appreciate what we're trying to avoid," the Commander said.

"Okay, I'll give you that;" Gardner allowed, "How do I proceed with delivering my personnel?"

"You use support craft like Macen did," the Commander directed, "Even his own ship is traversing the outer edges of our solar system. Macen understood what would happen if he didn't comply and so should you."

Gardner looked over to Anastasia Slutskaya, her XO;" Anything?"

"Besides these three cutters, three frigates have appeared as if on cue;" Slutskaya reported.

Gardner turned back towards the viewscreen pickup, "I see your point. We'll get operations underway."

"I shall inform Traffic Control to be expecting your ships," The Commander signed off.

"Okay Slutty, I'm putting in charge of this operation;" Gardner told her, "Do us proud."

"You've got it," Slutskaya declared as she headed for the turbolift.

"Kozlova, where's the _Obsidian_?" Gardner asked Ekaterina Kozlova, her Science Officer.

"Just coming into extreme sensor range. She's being escorted by two Reman cutters," Kozlova reported.

Gardner turned to her Communications Officer, Colburn Marks; "Marks, hail the _Obsidian_. Tell Shannon Forger that I want to speak with her ASAP."

* * *

Macen's comm badge chirped while he organized his forces down in Utopia Garden's sub-basement, "Macen here."

_"Captain, it's Angelique. There have been major developments over the last fifteen minutes,"_ she said to him, _"The fighting briefly intensified and has now stopped. Sarina Douglas and her companions intervened and have gathered a summit of gang bosses. I have to guess that Douglas is coordinating a combined assault on your position."_

"Any good news?" Macen had to wonder.

_"First Officer Forger made contact several minutes ago. The _Guinevere_ arrived and is being held at the system's outer marker. But like before only support craft are being allowed to transit at sublight to Safehold. Captain Gardner estimates it will take three complete transits to deploy everyone. She estimates that the shuttles will require slightly longer than the _Corsair_ to arrive on Safehold and make the return trip. She estimates four hours each way."_

"How much progress has the excursion team made?" Macen asked.

_"Bailey told me that they've made better time than originally estimated and are halfway to our position,"_ Kerber stated, _"Tony Burrows asked Bailey to find him deserted quarters for them to rest for four hours but the urban density factors are sorely working against them."_

"And the transportation hubs are still being guarded?" Macen sought clarification.

_"Yes, by eight man squads. Tony estimates that his group could overcome the guards _if_ everything happens perfectly,"_ Kerber informed Macen, _"And you know as well as we do how often that happens."_

"Have Bailey pass on to Tony to risk it. We need to shorten their transit to something manageable. I doubt we'll hold out against an all out combined assault. The divisive nature of the gangs was the only thing giving us even odds. If that factor has been mitigated we need to step things up," Macen instructed.

_"But the gangs will know exactly where they're headed for and how they're getting there is they do this,"_ Kerber started to protest.

"We're running out of time all around," Macen warned Kerber, "Besides our situation, the _Guinevere's_ first load of shuttles will be arriving in a few hours. We need the _Corsair_ airborne to lay down cover fire while the Outbound Ventures teams make their approach on Utopian Gardens."

_"I'll let Bailey know. She has experience in these matters,"_ Kerber offered.

"I'm well aware of that," Macen assured Kerber, "But let it be known, this isn't a request."

_"I'll rig her up a mobile unit so she can stay patched in with the excursion team while she sets up,"_ Kerber ventured.

"Good luck then," Macen signed off.

* * *

"Repeat that," Burrows requested as the SID trio ducked under a building's foyer.

_"The Captain has ordered you to board the train and come straight to the landing center. I'll be taking a mobile patch out with me and keep you appraised of the developing situation while I prepare to deal with your eventual reception committee,"_ Smith informed Burrows.

"No offense Bailey, but you're a linguist. Can you even hit the broadside of a starship?" Burrows wondered.

_"If I could, I'd tell you stories that would drain you of color;"_ Smith retorted, _"But suffice it to say I have adequate experience in this sort of thing."_

"Okay, where's the closest train?" Burrows asked.

_"Check your tricorder. I already plotted you a route. I'd recommend spending fifteen minutes hydrating first. You may not get another chance until it's all over,"_ Smith stated.

"Sage advice," Burrows admitted, "What kind of experience did you say you have?"

_"I didn't,"_ Smith said evenly, _"But it'll be enough to make all the difference in the world."_

"Have you always been an optimist, Bailey?" Burrows had to ask.

_"I'll stay in touch and see you when the train arrives. Even if you don't see me,"_ Smith told him, _"Out."_

"Seems she told you," Mudd said to Burrows.

"She gave us good advice," Burrows shared, "Break out the liquids. We'll set out in fifteen."

* * *

Outside of Utopia Gardens, representatives of all four remaining gangs met together. Solan stood in for Tevara. Kundark chose to represent himself. Glit Adder stood in for Trob. Gerin Stolz stood in for Tantz and Gomer. Douglas had called the meeting together and opened the forum up.

"We have to ally and work together if we are to break the Outbound Ventures representatives and return Dr. Bashir to his clinic," Douglas spoke to them all, "You all seem to want him under your direct control, an asset fit only for your petty concerns. What Bashir is offering is something greater. A chance for you to appeal to the very people that are lining your pockets. Give the doctor to the people and the people will give their latinum to you. Call it health insurance."

"Why does Outbound Ventures have Bashir in custody?" Kundark wanted to know, "And where are the Remans. Their law is no sentient can be taken from this world."

"Unless they want to go," Solan said silkily, "So why does Bashir want to go?"

"Douglas gave Solan an irritated glance, "Outbound Ventures does want to take Bashir off world. Where they want to take him is a mystery to me."

"Well, they obviously don't want to take him back to Andoria;" Solan smoothly ruffled Douglas' feathers.

Douglas ignored Solan, "As far as the Remans go, Bashir has already contacted them and made his case for leaving. If you want to see the only doctor this city has leave, then simply step aside and let him go. And you'll have to work together or you'll never retrieve him."

"How does this 'insurance' scam work?" Adder asked.

He was from Rutia IV and served as Trob's chief enforcer. While everyone waited for Douglas' answer blast shutters above Utopia Gardens' porticos opened up. The twin obelisks guarding the main entrance suddenly swiveled as their domed heads bisected, revealing a gun in each.

"Damnation!" Solan actually sounded perturbed, "They have been busy."

"Get everyone down!" Douglas shouted as the isokinetic rail guns opened fire.

Over a hundred gang members were instantly cut down. The guns then fired at a slower cycle rate at targets of opportunity. Eventually the weapons ran out of ammo and sealed themselves back up.

Douglas was the first on her feet. Only half of the assorted gangsters joined her. As the dust settled, she realized that the weapons had covered all four sides of the quad and that the devastation had to be just as severe surrounding the entire building.

"I think Captain Macen just went further towards making your point than you ever could have," Solan told Douglas.

"I know," Douglas said distantly, "But why did he do it?"

* * *

"Parva, you're sure every door is sealed?" Macen double checked.

"There are a few in the north wing that didn't respond but otherwise every fire and blast door is closed and sealed shut," Parva assured him.

"Rab, it's time to implement the defense plan;" Macen warned Daggit.

"I was afraid of that," Daggit grimaced.

* * *

Burrows opened fire with his Bajoran Militia surplus phaser rifle. Two of the gang sentries fell before the remaining sis returned fire. Then Mudd began shooting for across the street. Two more fell. As the survivors adjusted their fire to push Mudd back, Ebert finished off the remaining guards. Burrows kept Mudd and Ebert covered while they ascended the stairs to the elevated train platform. Then he joined them while they covered the area from their perch.

The train arrived and Mudd and Ebert quickly boarded. There were several flashes of particle energy discharges before Burrows cold get aboard. He found four humanoids on the deck with Mudd and Ebert sweeping the area with their rifles.

"Okay, I'm seriously impressed;" Burrows admitted.

"Move!" Mudd shouldered Burrows out of the train compartment's entrance. As she began firing, he turned to see four more aliens climbing the platform's stairs. They ducked under Mudd's energy barrage.

The doors sealed shut and the train rocketed off on its magnetic levitation rails. Burrows shook his head, "This is suicide. There will be more of them at every stop."

"No there won't," Ebert was dead serious as she paged Smith, "Bailey, we need a direct route to your position. No stops and no interruptions."

_"I'm on it," _Smith replied.

Ebert blushed at Burrows incredulous stare and Mudd's beaming expression. Mudd chucked her shoulder, "That's my girl."

"You're what? A year older than me?" At best?" Ebert quipped.

"It counts," Mudd protested.

"In your dreams it does," Ebert huffed.

Burrows just chuckled and started to relax for the first time all evening.

* * *

At the end game rail destination, Smith had set up her firing position. Her portable case held her computer and she had a phaser rifle in her hands. Back on Ardana, when she was still known as Maarta, Smith had participated in dozens of acts of terrorism. Not all of them had been while sitting at a computer.

Anara, or "Angelique Kerber", had always been the superior computer genius. She'd always been relegated to the role she'd played since their arrival on Safehold. Smith, on the other hand, was much more hands on. The fact that Macen had seemed to know this hardly surprised her anymore.

The gang sentries were assembled beneath the rail platform and atop it. She sighted in a few members from her present location. They were clustering up. That suited Smith. It would make them slower to react to her and add confusion surrounding her whereabouts.

* * *

The excursion team had no idea their train was listed as Train 4-1-A. Burrows could barely see the end of the line. And it literally was the end.

"Bailey, it looks like we have a welcoming committee," Burrows told her.

_"I know. I've been observing them since they arrived ten minutes ago,"_ Smith told him.

"Can you stop the train five hundred meters from the end of the line?" Burrows asked.

_"Easily enough,"_ Smith said cheerfully. The train slid to a halt, _"Happy?"_

Burrows couldn't believe the quiet, reticent linguist was now sassing him, "Can you pop the hatches?"

The answer came when all of the doors opened. Burrows shook his head, "Thanks."

Mudd slipped out the back and started firing at the Tevara gang members from the left side of the train. Burrows leaned out of the door on the right and also began discharging his weapon. Ebert used up her rifle's power pack creating a gun port in the transparent aluminum windshield. Pulling her phaser pistol free, she joined in the melee.

* * *

Smith sighted in the closest gangster at the end of the line waiting to go up the stairs and charge the train. Smith's love of archaic Terran cinema included a movie called _Sergeant York_. York's homespun sensibilities had included attacking the rear of a line and picking it apart one man at a time until everyone was dead or had surrendered. It had apparently been a true story but heavily embellished.

At the very head of the line, the last three remaining sentients noticed the bodies falling behind them. They bolted up the stairs. When they reached the top of the stairs they looked around for Smith's firing position. Unlike York's weapons in the humans' First World War., her particle beam weapon would clearly give her position away. Still she didn't hesitate to take out another man. Kerber ducked behind the barricade she sat behind as disruptor bolts flew her way.

* * *

Burrows' spirits rose when he saw the first phaser bursts lance up from beneath the mag rails. Smith's presence was distracting the force trying to siege the train. A flurry of phaser fire from Ebert alerted Burrows to the fact that she was incensed by the barrage pouring down on Smith. Burrows was about to warn Ebert to ease off when she suddenly announced that her power pack was dry.

He focused on covering her while she expertly swapped out the Bajoran phaser's power cell. Burrows was once again surprised by her skill and efficiency in doing so. He had no idea that Macen had stocked the _Odyssey_ with Bajoran arms during his days with the Maquis and Ebert flew the scoutship.

Mudd discarded her captured rifle moments after Ebert had recharged her pistol. Pulling her phaser pistol free of its shoulder holster, Mudd began to return fire at the opportunistic gang members that had hoped that she was out of the fight.

No sooner had Burrows swapped out power packs in his rifle when Smith contacted him, _"Get everyone clear of the train."_

"Say what?" Burrows refused to believe she'd just said that.

_"Get off the damn train!"_ Smith snarled, _"Now!"_

Burrows grabbed Ebert by the arm and dragged her off the train. He fired repeated bursts down the track as he forced Ebert clear of the train. Bereft of cover, Burrows expected to die in any second now.

"What's going on?" Ebert demanded to know.

"I have no idea," Burrows replied through gritted teeth, "Bailey plans to blow up the train or something."

The train's doors sealed and its magnetic repulsors began to hum. Then it lurched forward like a missile. It blew through, and over, the Tevara Gang humanoids. Hitting the end of the line, the train smashed its way through the barrier wall and fell down atop parked shuttles at the edge of the landing field.

Mudd pushed forward and performed a classic "double tap" on any surviving gangsters. Ebert finished any people that Mudd had overlooked. Burrows was unhappy but he also knew it could be a necessity.

On the ground, Smith packed up her portable computer and stowed it away in a courier bag. Slinging the bag across her body, she changed out power cells on her rifle and then hefted it as she rose. Waving, she alerted the SID team descending the stairs from the elevated train platform.

Burrows shook his head, "That was amazing."

"Only because you didn't think I was capable," Smith retorted.

"Where did you learn to do all of this?" Burrows inquired.

"I don't think you of all people want to go there," Smith replied ruefully.

"Surely you can..." Burrows began.

"Drop it, Starfleet!" Mudd snapped, "Not everyone has a past they're inclined to brag about. Some of us will survive longer if we keep our mouths shut."

Burrows looked at Smith. His curiosity had merely been kindled further. She hoped he was good at dealing with disappointment.

"What about the Captain's group?" Ebert asked, "Are they all right?"

"They were before I left the runabout," Smith told her, "I've been busy with your group. Angelique is providing support for the Captain's team."

"But you haven't asked for updates?" Ebert wanted to know.

"I was a tad busy assisting you," Smith was beginning to losing her patience, "Would you prefer I was back aboard the _Corsair_ and not out here?"

"Of course she doesn't," Mudd sharply interjected, "She's just fretting. She'll be fine once she's aboard the runabout. Right?"

Ebert knew the question was aimed solely at her, "Of course I will be."

"I do have some good news though," Smith told them as she led them back to the _Corsair's_ landing pad, "The _Guinevere _arrived four hours ago. Her shuttles should be setting down within the hour."

"How many shuttles?" Burrows was all business again.

"Four," Smith answered, "That's the _Guinevere's_ entire complement. They landing effort is being led by the _Guinevere's_ XO, named Anastasia Slutskaya, but the security force being placed here is headed up by one Colonel Tzu Ma."

"The security detail uses planetary forces ranks?" Burrows was surprised.

"So does the security team aboard the _Obsidian_," Smith chided him, "Jaycee Miller holds a rank of Major as the Chief of Security and Jelena Kovic holds the rank of First Lieutenant. You really should know these things."

Everyone fell silent for a moment. Ebert filled in the silence, "I think you've said more in the last few minutes than the rest of the time since you joined the team."

"Considering that you just joined the team and have no frame of reference to work with, it isn't surprising;" Smith remarked.

"And flashes of sarcasm too!" Mudd enthused, "You'll be a fully fledged wise ass in no time at all."

"I'll be certain to post a memorandum when I arrive," Smith quipped.

* * *

Explosions ripped throughout the Utopia Gardens quad. The echoes and vibrations reverberated throughout the buildings' frame all the way into the sub-basement. Parva kept an eye on the united gangs' progress. Despite the obvious ploy of Solan sending his rivals before his own forces as cannon fodder, she had to admit that the Section 31 team was seriously impressing her.

"I'll give Sarina Douglas one thing, she's a total badass when it comes to organizing a soiree to kill us all;" Parva commented, "And this Tav Solan person has leveraged himself and his forces to be the last men standing after his competition gets chewed apart by our interior defenses."

"She definitely knows where to place explosive charge for maximum effect," Daggit said with admiration.

"You'd better only admire me that much from now on, husband of mine;" Parva warned him.

"What's their ETA?" Macen asked.

"Twelve minutes," Bashir said from behind everyone, "And that's estimating delays in their progress."

"Would you reconsider speaking with her?" Rockford asked him, "The facility's PA is still working."

"I think it's safe to assume Sarina isn't here to simply retrieve me at this point," Bashir said with infinite sadness.

Rockford gave Macen a nonverbal nudge. He'd almost been killed by each of his wives in their various incarnations. He of all people should be empathetic. Yet he seemed disinclined to be.

Rockford had given it a shot, "You have to know I'm an Angosian Augment."

"Yes, the barest scar line on your right temple indicates where the cortical implant was placed," Bashir took refuge in clinical language, "Yet, I am curious about the tattoo on your right shoulder blade. It's a pattern I'm unfamiliar with especially amongst Angosian lexicons."

"You're familiar with Angosian cultural markings?" Rockford was amazed.

"We had several groups of Angosian commandoes based on Deep Space Nine during the Dominion War," Bashir reminded Rockford, "Your friend, Rab Daggit, was among those posted there. Macen was one of their leaders. I took it upon myself to familiarize myself with Angosian culture as best I could whilst under the pressures of war."

"Many of the commandoes bore tattoos reflecting native traditions," Bashir recalled, "It was rather melancholy consider..."

"They weren't welcome on their own world anymore?" Rockford ventured.

"Among other reasons," Bashir confessed, "But you haven't answered my question."

"It's of El-Aurian origin," Rockford shared.

"What does it represent?" Bashir knew that the El-Aurians had been obsessively reticent to share any aspects of their culture.

"It's representative of ultimate truth," Rockford revealed, "And those that seek it."

"That's far too metaphysical for me," Bashir chuckled.

"The quest for truth embraces all realities, even metaphysical ones, and seeks the path to ultimate knowledge," Rockford stated, "In the end, it's simply the path to determine what Fate has in store for us."

"Ah," Bashir said smugly, "but there you have it. I believe I make my own fate."

"And Fate laughed at you when you were thrown into prison," Rockford replied.

"And this is all some kind of El-Aurian mysticism?" Bashir asked.

"One being's mysticism is another's truth," Rockford countered, Why is it so hard to believe in an absolute truth?"

"I don't believe there's only one truth. Truth is relative;" Bashir rebutted her.

"Yet you believe in facts," Rockford pointed out, "And gather enough facts and you establish an irrefutable law. And laws comprise truth."

Bashir wasn't certain of how to argue with that. Rockford grinned, "So why can't you simply accept I have more facts at my disposal than you do?"

"You only believe you do," Bashir knew his refutation sounded weak even to his own ears.

"You'd best gather up my investigative associates," Rockford suggested, "The fighting is about to begin."

"Unfortunately I have an abundance of combat experience," Bashir offered his services.

"My associates don't and they need someone to mind them," Rockford replied, "And if we lose you our mission here was for nothing."

"I don't know," Bashir hedged.

"Look, you've met them all;" Rockford argued, "Arianna is only metabolically sixteen years old and never seen this kind of action before. Lee is a former police officer so he has some training. Shade is a Fabrini and has never been near combat before. I'm not going to throw them into the fighting if I don't have to. I'm going to be too distracted to even make that determination. But you can."

"Sixteen? You've brought a child into this situation?" Bashir was affronted.

"Technically she's as old as Macen but biologically she only rates as a teenager," Rockford divulged.

"She's from Miri," Bashir realized all at once.

"She's also exceptionally brilliant so go try and impress her and wait to see what happens," Rockford suggested, "It should be amusing for everyone involved."

"I'll need a weapon," Bashir said firmly.

Rockford escorted him to the duffel Daggit had brought the phaser rifles in. She handed him a Bajoran rifle, "I'm sure you're familiar with the design."

"Indeed," Bashir agreed.

* * *

In the interior corridors of the Utopia Gardens quad, Solan held the rear while his various counterparts attacked the sub-basement. One of Solan's intermediate level managers approached him, "Solan, Harry Mudd has abandoned his men."

Solan scowled. He'd left Mudd III with the perimeter force surrounding the quad. And that force was tasked with executing every rival gang member.

"Did he take his men with him?" Solan asked.

"No, he left Salara in charge;" the manager reported.

Solan knew Salara was a capable woman but she was rather abrasive. She'd be impetuous enough to begin executing the rival gangs well before the signal was given to do so. That would mean everyone would divert their attention from Macen's group and back at the Tevara Gang.

"Get back to the perimeter and relieve Salara," Solan ordered.

The man grimaced, "You _know_ Salara. She might just shoot me for being the messenger."

"Tell Salara if she has a difficulty with one of my orders to take it up with me," Solan said in a chilling tone, "Better yet, just send her straight to me. I'll sort her out."

The man began to depart and Solan called after him, "And Tabor, find out which direction Mudd took of in."

Douglas approached from her position further down the corridor, "Trouble in paradise?"

"It's nothing I can't manage," Solan assured her.

"I have no doubts," Douglas replied easily, "But we've reached the sub-basement. Kundark, Adder, and Stolz want you present when they begin to breach it."

"Don't they trust me?" Solan wore a toothy grin, "Never mind that. Your agents in the tunnels can't penetrate the access hatch?"

"It would require a tri-cobalt photon munition," Douglas explained, "We just happen to be short on those."

"Many of my associates speak of Section 31 with fear and trembling," Solan jabbed at her, "I really can't see why."

"Maybe we'll change your mind before this is done," Douglas remarked.

"Perhaps," Solan allowed.

* * *

The blast doors shielding the access door to the sub-basement flew out of its recessed railing as Douglas' explosive charges blew away the reinforced guide rails. Douglas waited until some of the superheated metals cooled before placing the last of her explosives against the primary access door. When she got clear, she detonated the charges and the door flew inward.

Gang members of various affiliations charged through the newly opened doorway. Screams could soon be heard from the interior of the sub-basement. Douglas had no illusions that the screams weren't coming from the gangsters. And she was wise not to have any.

Inside the sub-basement, the SID team had cleared a killing field. Using various cargo containers and other debris, they'd erected barricades. Daggit and Rockford held the center. Macen was on the left flank while Parva occupied the right. A "pillbox" fortification had been erected around Bashir and his three charges.

Barricades had also been constructed around the more sensitive parts of the fusion reactor. No one trusted the gangs to have enough discipline and fire control to not blow the reactor even by accident.

Every SID member was armed with a rifle, even Macen under protest. Their defensive posture was aided by the fact there was a single entrance into the room. But it also meant there would be no retreating whatsoever. The press of bodies grew worse as the corpses of the slain piled atop each other in the doorway.

The gangs threw in photon grenades to force the SID to duck and cover. While they shielded themselves, many of the dead bodies were torn apart by the energies of the photon grenades. Several gangsters entered the sub-basement while the defenders gathered their wits.

But they did recuperate and reopened fire on the encroaching invaders. But they didn't regain the initiative that they'd held at the beginning. Parva declared that she needed to swap out power cells. Daggit yelled out a code word intended for such a situation. Macen and Rockford also switched out power packs while Daggit fired two photon grenades rounds at the doorway.

The detonation killed everyone between the door and the barricades. Macen, Rockford, and Parva each yelled they were ready. Daggit fired two more rounds through the doorway. Explosions ripped through the outer hallway. Daggit took the time to change out his own expended power cell.

* * *

On the next level up, the gang leaders met again. Solan noticed that one figure was notably missing, "Where's Kundark?"

He was torn in half by the energy wave discharge of a photon round," Adder informed him, "What was left after that was peppered by shrapnel."

"And just where were you during the fight?" Stolz asked the obvious question.

"Dealing with errant business associates," Solan said smoothly. Salara's corpse lay nearby.

"We need more men," Adder decided.

"Nonsense, we simply need to drop the building on their heads and force them to utilize the access tunnels that are already under our control," Solan suggested.

"You have that many explosives?" Stolz was skeptical.

"We do and we have a mercenary unit on retainer just for jobs like this," Solan promised, "They can have the building wired within the hour."

"That's an expensive proposition," Adder realized, "What do you want from us?"

"I want you to find Harry Mudd and bring him back to me," Solan informed Adder. Turning to Stolz he said, "I need you to harass Macen's group. They can't be allowed to leave that basement."

"Okay, we'll do it while you try to organize the Kundarks;" Adder suggested.

"Or we could simply destroy them now and divide their territories and assets," Solan offered.

"Tantz will want to weigh in on this option," Stolz said.

"Then contact him," Solan graciously requested, "And give my regards to Gomer."

"I'll be off then," Adder stated.

"Perhaps Trob will even allow Doreb a moment out of his cell to pretend to be in charge during these propitious moments," Solan watched Adder's irritated reaction and shrugged, "Or perhaps not."

Stolz briefed Tantz and the Orion chieftain agreed with Solan's offer. As he returned to the sub-basement, Douglas approached Solan; "You intend to kill them all and consolidate all of the power into Tevara's 'hands'."

"Very astute," Solan congratulated her, "And if you're wondering of the Eldebara Gang will prove to be an obstacle, let me tell you that I have a highly placed agent in the command hierarchy."

"How high?" Douglas had a feeling she knew already.

"Gomer herself," Solan boasted, "And if you're worried about the effects of Orion pheromones, I had the receptors in my nose and sinuses altered to reject them. So Gomer's considerable charms are just that."

"I see," Douglas admitted, "But you may want to advise Adder that Mudd III will be headed for the Outbound Ventures runabout."

"Why would he do that?" Solan wondered.

"Because it's unexpected and because his daughter will be aboard it," Doulas shared with him.

"His daughter?" Douglas was amused by Solan's bafflement.

"The leather clad platinum blonde human that spoke with Mudd III earlier," Douglas said to him, "That was Harriet Fedora Mudd, or 'Harri' with an 'I'."

Solan snapped his fingers and a female Bolian aide appeared. He instructed that messengers be sent to Adder informing him of this latest development. She crisply acknowledged her orders and went about to follow them.

"There is also the matter of the nearby Outbound Ventures starship. It may be registered to a civilian organization but it is still a _Nova_-class surveyor. Which makes it formidable in its own right. Trust me, I speak from experience;" Douglas warned Solan.

"That has already been planned for," Solan nodded somberly, "An Andorian mercenary ship will be engaging the _Obsidian_ within the next fifteen minutes."

"You do realize the Remans may consider you a threat if you succeed at all of this?" Douglas inquired.

"Tevara knows this and has already planned for it," Solan assured her.


	7. Chapter 7

10

The Andorians' ship had long since been passed over by four civilian shuttles. But now as they headed towards the outer marker, they detected four Reman cutters and two Starfleet starships. Of course, the starships were a modern surveyor and then a heavy cruiser from the turn of the century. And they were both registered to the same corporation that the four shuttles had belonged to. So that mystery was solved.

The Andorian commander was very agitated. His contract called for engaging one foe, not two. And the Remans were doggedly pursuing a neutral stance except in warning that they would open fire on any vessels engaging in combat within the solar system. They couldn't care less what happened outside of it.

The Andorians used a standard Miradorn raider. As it approached the Outbound Ventures ships the captain was once again surprised as the two vessels raised their shields and armed their weapons. But the _Obsidian's_ weaponry was entirely housed in its saucer section. This meant they had no chase armament. But the _Guinevere_ possessed aft phaser banks and an aft torpedo launcher.

The raider assaulted the _Obsidian_ as it flew over her dorsal plane. As soon as it came within range both the _Obsidian_ and _Guinevere_ opened fire. The Andorians applied braking thrusters and an RCS burn to angle away from the weapons and fly at maximum impulse along that axis. What happened next though was that both Outbound Ventures ships mirrored the maneuver and continued pounding away at the Andorians.

Captain Gardner spaced out the _Guinevere_ by a ship's length and engaged in a crossfire. As the photon torpedo barrage intensified, the Andorian commander decided that retreat was his only option. Slipping into subspace, he vacated the area at his maximum available speed.

* * *

Mudd III hammered away at the _Corsair's_ hatch with the butt of his Klingon disruptor pistol. The hatch door finally opened to reveal a very irate Mudd, "Stop banging on the damn hull!"

"Let me come aboard and I'll do whatever you want," Mudd III pleaded.

"No way," Mudd refused him, "There's always a price, Pops. What is it this time?"

"I have information that can save your friends back at Utopia Plantation," Mudd III insisted, "But I'll only give it to you if you take me aboard and give me shelter from the Tevara Gang."

"Give me the info and I'll consider your request," Mudd countered.

"That's not how this game is played, girl!" Mudd III roared.

"I learned the art of negotiation from you, Pops;" Mudd wore a wicked grin, "The more desperate the rube the more they'll give away for a little of nothing. Or did I misunderstand you all those years ago?"

Mudd III's shoulder sagged. His daughter had quoted him verbatim. He had always known she was too smart for her own good. Perhaps it was finally time to acknowledge she was her idiot brother's superior.

"Solan hired mercenaries to rig the quad with explosions. The idea is to bring the building down and force Macen and his team to employ the access tunnels to escape," Mudd III shared, "Of course; they have the tunnels manned and ready. Good enough? Now let me aboard."

"Old news, Pops;" Mudd breezily dismissed his request, "We already knew about the Rowdy Rangers and their contract. But you negotiated the contract, didn't you? Have anything useful to throw out there for our consideration?"

"I know the abort code that will call the Rowdy Rangers off," Mudd III said sullenly.

Mudd looked across the runabout's cabin. Kerber nodded and Mudd stepped aside for her father, "Welcome aboard, Pops. Now give us the code."

"First you'll need the mercs' comm frequency and encryption," Mudd sought to renegotiate.

"I'm _already_ in their network," Kerber said disdainfully, "How else would I know about the contract?"

"Um...good point," Mudd III nervously agreed. The looks he was getting from Kerber and Smith made him very uncomfortable.

"Give me the code word," Kerber grated, "_Now_."

"It's 'panda bear'," Mudd III readily shared.

Kerber transmitted the abort code. The Rowdy Rangers acknowledged it and immediately began packing up with their work unfinished. That just left Mudd III at the mercies of Ebert, Kerber, Smith, and his own daughter.

"Congrats," Mudd told him as she thrust a phaser into his back, "You get to live another day."

Smith disarmed him while Mudd held her father prisoner. After she had collected an impressive number of weapons, Smith cocked an eyebrow Mudd's way, "Do you have him or would you like help?"

"Oh, I've got this;" Mudd said with relish and then she marched Mudd III back to the holding cell and put him in it. She hit the sound buffer so his monotonous protests couldn't be heard as she returned to the cockpit.

* * *

Macen's comm badge chirped while the fighting continued but it was much more subdued at the moment. He tapped it, "Macen here."

Kerber's voice came through, _"We were able to call off the Rowdy Rangers' mission. Harry Mudd III surrendered to us and he had the abort code. But in further developments, the first four shuttles from the _Guinevere_ have arrived. The force commander is wondering whether or not you want them to immediately try and relieve you or if they should stay immobilized until they have a greater number of forces."_

"What price did Mudd III ask for this information?" Macen wondered.

_"A lift off world,"_ Kerber informed him.

"Good call on that," Macen congratulated her, "We'll place Mudd III in Captain Ro's custody when we return to Deep Space Nine."

_"You still haven't answered my question,"_ Kerber grew a little more insistent.

"Send them," Macen instructed her, "We're running low on charged power packs and Parva hasn't had time to rig up a modified recharger that can draw directly off of the reactor."

_"Tony has been anticipating that scenario as well as Tracy,"_ Kerber stated, _"Tony is coordinating with the newly arrived forces. Tracy is just ready to lift off and blast someone."_

"Tell them they're both authorized to proceed," Macen said to her.

_"I'll also tell them to hurry,"_ Kerber admitted.

* * *

Burrows addressed Slutskaya, "I really have no idea of why you're here. This is a ground mission. Your starship isn't even in the system."

"I'm here to oversee the landing operations," Slutskaya told Burrows.

"Then oversee the landing and let the professionals work," Burrows grated, "The Outbound Ventures mission here _is_ an independent command is it not?"

"Technically, yes;" Slutskaya admitted, "But..."

"There are no 'buts'," Burrows insisted, "Oversee your own crew and leave the rest of us to do our jobs."

"All right," Slutskaya snarled, "But the casualties will be on your head."

"The first rule is that there are _always_ casualties," Burrows said sternly, "The second is that the unexpected always happens."

Across from the _Guinevere_ crews' landing site the _Corsair_ lifted into the air and Slutskaya grew angry, "Where are they going?"

"He who controls the high ground controls the battlefield," Burrows pointed out another obvious maxim, "And we just took the highest ground."

"We'll see how well your plan works," Slutskaya said dismissively.

"Yes, we will;" Burrows replied.

* * *

Solan received a transmission from Adder that he didn't want to hear, "What do you mean the runabout was gone?"

_"Four Outbound Ventures registered shuttles were lifting off when we arrived. The runabout was already gone. I can only suppose all the support craft were recalled to their mother ship,"_ Adder theorized.

"Except for the fact that a _Nova_-class starship only has a shuttle bay large enough to accommodate a single runabout or a pair of standard shuttles," Douglas informed Solan with a shake of her head, "I'd guess that another Outbound Ventures ship is in the area and that they've just delivered ground personnel."

Solan scowled, "Adder, lift off and find that runabout."

_"You know the Remans won't allow me to engage the ship in their space,"_ Adder protested.

"They're not in space," Solan grated, "They're still on the planet."

_"Well, that's a different matter;"_ Adder said.

"Just find them!" Solan snarled. He then contacted his agent overseeing the Kundark matter, "Are they all dead yet?"

_"Yes, down to every last man, woman, and child;"_ the Boslic replied, _"We also eliminated Trob, Tantz, and their faithful. Everyone else wisely decided to enlist."_

Solan automatically nodded despite the lack of visual communications, "Excellent work. Bring everyone back here."

_"Does that include the surviving Doreb and Endebara gangs?"_ the Boslic asked.

"Of course," Solan readily agreed, "Can you suggest a better means of proving their newfound loyalty then putting their life on the line to defend Tevara's interests by attacking these Outbound Ventures fools?"

_"I thought you were dropping a quad on them,"_ Solan's agent commented.

"I was but Mudd III betrayed me and aborted the Rowdy Rangers' mission," Solan said with more than a tinge of anger," The Rowdy Rangers won't negotiate to fulfill their original contract. Tevara is dealing with them."

Solan could hear the shudder in the Boslic's voice, _"I almost pity them. It would be more merciful to kill them outright."_

"I believe that's Tevara's entire point," Solan said with satisfaction.

"You can't risk underestimating Macen and his team," Douglas warned from Solan's side, "They killed Bertram Sindis among other events."

"Yes, I know;" Solan informed her, "But I was curious as to when you would bring that fact up."

"Now, obviously;" Douglas replied.

"You have a great deal of animosity for Macen," Solan had observed, "Why is that?"

"Macen has disrupted many long range plans that my benefactors have put into play," Douglas described, "This included killing several highly placed agents."

"I'm beginning to see the pieces of a very large puzzle falling into place," Solan admitted, "Tevara deemed it fit to inform me of some matters concerning Macen but a great many more were still obfuscated."

"How so?" Douglas dreaded the answer.

"There are rumors swirling about of a hired Starfleet agent that shut down a mysterious gulag full of political prisoners from the Federation. This agent was instrumental in the formation of Starfleet's Special Investigation Division," Solan listed, "Among career highlights are reopening contact with the Nova Romans, the Kelvan, the Iotians, and the Ekosians. They were center stage of the emergence of the Unionist Party overthrowing the nascent restoration of the Cardassian monarchy. He was instrumental in aiding Admiral Robert Tavar Johnson's charge to heal the rift created during the Federation's secessionist movement. Apparently the Argyn and Iridian Enforcer crises were other matters dealt with by the agent and his people."

"And then most amusing of all was the fact that they restored President Bacco to power only to unearth the very evidence that toppled her administration," Solan chuckled, "I'm assuming the gulag and Bacco's original departure from office were your doing. The Cardassian's nearly falling into civil war also smacks of Section 31."

Douglas frowned, "You're...very well informed.

"We're not as isolated as you might suppose," Solan chuckled, "Sindis was the first non-Orion leader of the Syndicate but he wasn't the last."

"Tevara?" Douglas suddenly realized how much sense it all made.

"Precisely," Solan nodded, "But you seem somewhat surprised."

"What about Gomer?" Douglas had to wonder.

"Why do you think she bent the knee?" Solan laughed.

"You seem awfully certain that my companions and I belong to Section 31," Douglas asserted, "How do you even know of the agency?"

"Please," Solan snorted, "Section 31 and the Orion Syndicate have been at odds, and occasional partners, since Starfleet founded the agency. And what you've confirmed is that these people have struggled against Section 31 and held their own and have even occasionally achieved having an upper hand."

Douglas bristled, "I think you're giving them too much credit."

"You're hardly unbiased," Solan retorted, "In fact your personal bias is undercutting your evaluation of the threat."

"You want brutal honesty?" Douglas was riled now, "Macen thwarted my aiding Maret's coup in the Cardassian Union and killed an undercover agent we'd had in place for over a decade. And he captured a mission specialist as well, revealing our complicity in the affair. Subsequently, Detective Rockford killed a rising star in the agency that happened to be Macen's previous wife and my handler who was a veteran agent with over seventy years of experience."

Douglas' eyes bored into Solan's, "There are two Angosian Augments in that basement. One killed Daveed B'nner with the aid of his Orion wife. The other was a mercenary employed by Robhurt B'nner. She left the Orion Syndicate's employ when Sindis killed B'nner."

"Which is why I'll be pitting the latest recruits against Macen," Solan told her, "They'll either face certain death at my hands or likely death at Macen's. Eventually, Macen's group will expend their last power packs and munitions. Then they will be crushed by my forces. Including the good doctor."

"So much the better," Douglas consented to the plan.

* * *

Adder sat at the communications board of a _Skylark_-class scout. The century old ship class had pioneered the modular designs now standardized in modern runabouts. There were four other crewmen aboard besides Adder.

In the front of the cockpit sat the pilot and the navigator. In the cabin, Adder was joined by a sensor operator. A flight engineer sat in a crash couch at the rear of the craft.

The sensor operator swore under her breath, "I can't find them."

"If they're any higher up they won't be as effective against ground based targets," the pilot opined, "Even Starfleet designed runabouts only pack so much firepower."

"Say what?" Adder blurted into his comm pickup while holding his earpiece close inside his ear. He turned to address the pilot, "Care to revise that opinion, dumbass? Someone just beamed six clusters of photon munitions into the crowd surrounding the Utopia Gardens quad."

"We're climbing," the pilot warned everyone.

* * *

"Someone aboard that _Skylark_ just got smart enough to climb to our altitude," Mudd advised Ebert.

"I guess repositioning ourselves from atop them to nearby so we could initiate a transport cost us our invisibility," Ebert grinned, "So we'll just have to do something about that. Everyone hold on!"

The _Corsair_ initiated a steep dive towards the heart of the megacity.

The _Skylark_ pilot pursued and opened fire as he did so. Adder snarled at the pilot, "Are you sure you want to do that?"

"Why wouldn't I?" the pilot snapped back.

"Because you're managing to hit everything _but_ them," Adder yelled at the pilot.

"Well, whoever is flying that crate is hell on wheels," the pilot bitterly complained, "Waitasec, they're trimming out."

"Why the hell would they just let us shoot them?" the sensor operator asked.

"Who cares?" the pilot asked jovially, "It's their funeral."

"I'm locking torpedoes on them," the navigator announced.

"Fire at will," the pilot ordered.

"Wait you idiots!" Adder demanded.

"Torps away!" the navigator crowed.

* * *

Ebert fired her braking thrusters and RCS thrusters to slow and climb at the same time. The _Skylark_ passed underneath the runabout. Accelerating again, Ebert lined up an easy shot as Mudd transferred weapons controls to her station.

* * *

Down below, the second wave surging into Utopia Gardens was hit by two photon microtorpedoes. The _Skylark_ peeled off but the _Corsair_ stayed on target and let a phaser barrage fly. After strafing the quad's outer entrance, Ebert broke off and went hunting for the scoutship again.

Solan heard the cries of the wounded and turned on his Bolian aide, "Get a hold of the mercenary companies."

"Which ones?" the usually unflappable aide was showing signs of stress.

"_Everyone_!" Solan screamed at her.

Douglas stepped away and summoned Agents Smith and Riley. The Orion Syndicate was losing containment of the situation. Macen had slipped personnel out of the quad and now they had air support as well as an unknown number of reinforcements that had arrived in four very unexpected shuttles. It was time to break off and leave the planet.

* * *

Ebert dogged the _Skylark's_ aft quarter while Mudd hammered away at its shields with her phasers. Ebert suddenly shifted the target lock to a new and seemingly nonvital section of the ship. Mudd cast a disparaging look Ebert's way.

"Why?" Mudd had to ask.

"Those couplings lock the two basic modules to the ship's framework. Blow them and the modules fall free of the ship and an already unwieldy airframe suddenly suffers from severe stress and friction caused by drag," Ebert explained.

Mudd grinned, "I like it already."

The _Skylark_-class employed a simple wedge-like cockpit with a narrow shaft that extended to the impulse drivers at the rear. The warp nacelles were underslung underneath the ship. As the _Corsair's_ phasers penetrated the scoutship's shields, the two photon microtorpedoes launched by the _Danube_-class runabout blew the couplings just as intended.

The two large modules attached to the ship slid free as atmospheric resistance pulled at them. Both modules were weapons modules. They each contained photon torpedo launchers and an additional phaser bank. As the modules cleared the ship's frame and plummeted to the ground below, the _Skylark_ suddenly found itself armed with only one phaser bank mounted underneath the cockpits nose.

Mudd released salvo after salvo of phaser fire. The scoutship's impulse engines were crippled and the crew hailed the SID crew and surrendered. Mudd pointed out the obvious to Ebert that it was a moot point anyway.

The _Skylark_ crashed into Paradise Havens' upper stories and exploded as her warp core breached. Mudd cheered, "Score _two_ for the good guys!"

"How's our torpedo inventory doing?" Ebert inquired.

"We still have four left to rock and ruin with," Mudd enthused.

"Well, as the saying goes, 'once more unto the breach';" Ebert said as she turned the ship around, "Or something like that."

* * *

Solan was trying to get his forces to leave a skeleton crew at the rear and sides of the Utopian Gardens quad. Only, no one was answering their comm badges. Mortar fire rained down on the plaza stretching before the quad.

Outbound Ventures had arrived. An Outbound Ventures fire team appeared at the western side of the quad. Firing isomagnetic disintegrators, they leveled fifty Syndicate thugs. The Outbound Ventures forces held their ground as a second group sought revenge.

Snipers atop the buildings all around the quad opened fire and lent their support to the force on the ground. Solan now fully realized why Douglas and her cronies had fled the scene. Solan was about to beat a hasty retreat when the sky filled with Reman gunships accompanied by the _Corsair_.

"_All hostilities will cease immediately!_" an amplified voice boomed.

All of Solan's fighters laid down their arms. That wise act spared their lives. Solan knew the gangsters inside of Utopian Gardens were still fighting. He hoped that they'd manage to kill Macen and his group before the cease-fire order reached them.

That was the Nalorian's last thought before Reman disruptor fire rained down on him. As the ranking survivor Gomer awaited further instruction. The Remans made their point very effectively.

"_All fighting must cease outside the structure and within it_," the Reman voiced echoed.

Gomer hastily complied. And then she congratulated herself on her cleverness. She'd betrayed Tantz to gain Tevara's trust. She'd bribed the Remans to intervene and execute Solan so that she could acquire his position. And now she would bide her time until she discovered a Medusan's weaknesses.


	8. Chapter 8

7

The SID team emerged from Utopian Plantations as the very last out. Burrows grinned as he came to face Macen, "Reporting as ordered."

"I take it the mastermind behind all of this is finally revealed?" Macen asked.

"The Orion woman behind the Eldebara Gang wanted Tav Solan's job within the Tevara Gang, which turns out to be the command echelon for the entire Orion Syndicate. Tevara is actually rewarding Gomer for her multiple betrayals," Burrows explained.

"It isn't easy to kill a Medusan so I wish Gomer well on her climb to the top," Rockford offered.

"The Remans already beamed Tevara's isolation tank aboard a derelict ship and have piloted it onto a collision course with the local star," Burrows shrugged, "Not even a Medusan can come back from that one."

Rockford smirked, "Well, you have to admire her efficiency and her ambition."

"No, I don't;" Macen remarked.

"How is everyone aboard the _Corsair_ doing?" Rockford inquired.

"Mudd III is doing fine," Burrows explained, "But he's blissfully unaware of his endgame destination at Deep Space Nine."

"Keep it that way," Macen urged.

* * *

Macen reported to the Reman administrator's office. The Reman offered a toothy smile, "Do you suppose you can keep from disrupting my city from now on?"

"Gomer has left people to run the criminal activities and you're collecting a share," Macen stated, "My people can work in this environment and find our starships employment. So it'll be best for everyone around."

"Excellent," the administrator accepted the news with aplomb.

"And now it's time for me to go," Macen started to turn.

"I think that also would be for the best," the administrator called after him as he departed.

* * *

Slutskaya met up with Burrows as he was boarding the _Corsair_. She promptly threw herself in his arms and kissed him. Then she retreated and began to stroll away.

Casting a wink over one shoulder she merely said, "See you around."

Daggit and Parva had witnessed the entire exchange. Daggit pulled at Burrows' arm, "Come on. We have places to be."

"Actually, I think we fifteen minutes to spare if the restroom hasn't been destroyed. We could always beam her to the surface before we break orbit," Parva suggested.

"No, I'm good;" Burrows said despite his obvious distraction.

* * *

Mudd stayed beside Ebert as the pilot flew the runabout back to the _Obsidian's_ waiting arms. Kerber and Smith manned the two support stations. Everyone else, except for Mudd III, was in the rear galley.

Macen waited until they were halfway back to the ship before greeting Mudd III, "So kind of you to take a moment, Captain. Have you had any thoughts on where you'll be dropping me off?"

"I have," Macen confessed, "I've arranged for you to be taken care of by good hands. You'll be amply rewarded for your efforts."

"So pleased to hear it," Mudd III looked insufferably sure of himself, "I always said you were a good man despite what happened with my boy."

"Let it go, Harry;" Macen advised as he opaqued the force field and reactivated the sound buffer.

Macen went forward to greet Kerber and Smith, "I'm going to be in the office module. I'm going to be on a secure channel. Please make certain it stays secure."

"Of course," Kerber assured him. Smith merely nodded her nonverbal promise.

* * *

Macen contacted Amanda Forger. Forger was eager,_ "Did you find Bashir?"_

"Of course," Macen assured her.

"Will you be remanding him to Starfleet's custody?" Forger asked.

"I'll be turning him over to Captain Ro," Macen told her.

"Why all the way out at Deep Space Nine?" Forger wondered.

"You know why, Amanda;" Macen cut through the pretense.

"All right, no BS. I agree with the sentiment but I'm not certain of the legality of what you're doing," Forger admitted.

"You're going to mobilize Starfleet Command and determine the legality of it," Macen stated, "And if you side against Bashir I'm making certain he disappears."

"I...see," Forger knew better than to argue, "Send your action report before you reach Deep Space Nine."

"I always do," Macen reminded her.

Macen paged Ro but he ended up leaving a message. He warned her he was about to drop both Bashir and Mudd III on her lap. So she'd best prepare.

* * *

Shannon Forger briefed Macen on their seemingly endless orbits around the star system culminating in a vaguely interesting firefight, "Pretty tame stuff compared to the normal."

"Write it up and I'll tack it to my report to your sister," Macen instructed.

"I know you brought a prisoner aboard but who's in the guest quarters?" Forger asked.

"If I told you Starfleet Command, in the form of your sister, could possibly try and tell you what to do with our guest. I'm not letting that happen," Macen said to her.

"So, the guest quarters are all empty?" Forger ventured.

Macen grinned, "Exactly.

* * *

Ro Laren looked across her office, "I'm glad you're accepting my offer, Doctor."

"It's good to be home even if it is completely different now," Bashir commented.

"Starfleet has returned you to duty on a probationary basis. You'll be monitored in case Section 31 tries to contact you again. If they do, and it's discovered you haven't reported the contact, Jaros II will become a new and uncomfortable reality for you," Ro warned him.

"What about the Andorians?" Bashir asked.

"You were physically dead and therefore legally as well. You were sentenced to life in imprisonment. Death commuted that sentence;" Ro tried to explain, "Admiral Johnson and Captain Beverly Crusher are throwing the diplomatic and medical scientific book at the Andorians. So you'll be in the clear there."

Ro turned to Colonel Cenn, "See to it Dr. Bashir gets to his Quarters safely and introduce him to our interim Chief Medical Officer."

Ro turned to her Chief of Security, Lt. Commander Blackmer; "Has Harry Mudd III been brought aboard?"

"Yes, ma'am;" Blackmer replied, "He's in a holding cell awaiting transport to his trials."

"Plural?" Ro was surprised.

"I took your suggestion and shopped around the fact that Mudd III was going to be in custody," Blackmer described how it happened, "Several nations stepped forward to press charges."

"Good luck, Harry;" Ro said ruefully.

Blackmer excused himself and that left Ro and Macen alone. She gave him a wry look, "I suppose you're just content to drop a world of trouble on me and my station you'll be taking off ASAP."

"I have people that need to get back to our own station," Macen informed her, "Otherwise we'd stay a few days."

"You know the other Mudd tore out of here like her tail was on fire," Ro lamented.

"She'll be back," Macen promised her.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Ro grumbled.

* * *

Late during the night cycle aboard Serenity Station, Macen's comm badge began demanding attention. He slipped out of his shared bedroom and activated it. It turned out to be Edward Fowler, the Director of Section 31.

"I'm at Quark's. Please join me," Fowler requested.

Macen returned to his bedroom and dressed. As he was strapping on his utility belt, Rockford commented; "That bad, huh?"

"Edward Fowler wants a meeting," he told her.

"He's _here_?" Rockford couldn't quite believe it.

"In Quark's," Macen revealed.

She threw back the covers and he held up a hand, "Not so fast, Celeste. I appreciate the effort but an implied condition of the meeting is that I come alone."

"I can still wait in my office for your call if it all hits the fan," Rockford insisted as she began pulling clothes on.

Macen smirked, "I knew I couldn't hold you back. I appreciate the support. I wouldn't want anyone else watching my back."

"The bastard probably wants to kill you for yanking Bashir away from Sarina Douglas," Rockford commented.

"I don't think so," Macen admitted.

"Neither do I," Rockford sighed, "But I'm hoping it's that simple."

* * *

Macen entered Quark's. The franchise owner himself was serving Fowler at the bar. Macen supposed latinum greased a lot of wheels. And probably spoke volumes on who the owner reported to about movements within the station and beyond.

Fowler was eating scrambled Ktarian eggs and ham, washed down by orange juice. The nearby planet of Barrinor had hundreds of acres of orange groves. Macen opted for a glass himself.

"This is excellent. I didn't realize Barrinor grew oranges," Fowler confessed.

"The oranges are freshly squeezed but the ham and eggs come from cloned stock," Macen advised him.

Fowler sighed, "I don't quibble about such things anymore."

"How can I help the head of Section 31?" Macen asked.

Fowler held up a solitary finger as he looked around. The proprietor was already gone. Fowler nodded his acceptance of the situation.

"I've been considering your offer," Fowler shared, "Of a truce between the SID and Section 31?"

"You think I speak for the entire organization?" Macen thought the idea was laughable.

"Amanda Forger will back your play," Fowler promised, "She usually does. Even with Bashir."

"Our agencies functioned best before the secessionist crisis," Fowler recalled, "When our two entities operated independently and rarely crossed paths. The waters have muddied since then."

"So you don't want me looking at you," Macen conceded, "Where should I look instead?"

"Turkana IV," Fowler said, "The Alliance gained control of the planet and pushed the Coalition off world."

"They would have needed space craft to depart," Macen reminded Fowler.

"And we gave them the support they needed," Fowler shared, "The Alliance, on the other hand, was supported by a loose alliance of powers that later gelled into the Typhon Pact. Now the inhabitants of Turkana IV serve the Typhon Pact in various roles and the Coalition survivors work for us."

"And what do you suppose I do about it?" Macen asked.

"Turkana IV is a nonaligned world. Which means Starfleet has no jurisdiction," Fowler explained, "But a simple businessman looking to expand weapons sales or some such fiction could obtain proof of these collusions and enable Starfleet to act."

"I'm surprised you haven't acted already," Macen admitted.

"Section 31 is a surgical instrument and what is needed on Turkana IV is a cluster bomb," Fowler told him, "Starfleet _must_ be made aware of the Typhon Pact's activities there. Before it is far too late."

"I'll pass it along," Macen promised.

Fowler wiped his lips with a napkin and depressed a control on his wristband. He vanished as a transporter effect grabbed hold of him. The Ferengi reappeared and Macen ended up paying Fowler's tab.

Macen reunited with Rockford in her office. Using her comp/comm, he contacted SID HQ. Things were about to get interesting again.


End file.
